play it again II
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latest archive about email links yearbook japan photoblog wish list	Wed Sep 13 00 / 3:31 AM Once I silently acquiesced into the gossipless pub world of beer, hand gestures, and punchlines, I knew my expectations (not anticipations) would not be met. So I opened my eyes and listened. Not much of a brave new world. Sam's and Leroux's friend was named Alex, and he was okay. We'd been together a half hour and he'd offered me his sweater before I got around to looking him in the eye. Apathy, misanthrope, whatever. He was the new guy, I was the new girl, there was an inevitable flirtatious rapport. Alex was cute, clean, well-dressed, verbose, forthcoming. But what? But nothing. Just talk. They say he liked me, but I didn't even think of touching him, I thought only that I never needed to see him again. He liked me, and I didn't like him back. He liked me, and I didn't like him back. There was no necessity, no obligation, no interest. It was there, and I didn't want to seize it. Are these standards which I see before me? I had them not, and yet I may see them still. Or are they but a dagger through the mind, a false creation, proceeding from the heat-obsessed brain?
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Lisa Higgs
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