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Saturday, January 1, 2011

A Cloud of Cologne

Walking the pug tonight, I stomped past a church with a full sidewalk. Lots of young things in hair gel swirlies, H&M jackets, buckle boots. Spose it's some singles night or mixer or whatever. Everyone staring at their phones. All those different perfumes swirling together. Each one of them smelling desperate. I'm tired of being in that line, they're like homeless people on soup kitchen Saturday, standing on the same sidewalk squares. Tired of being single, of worrying about whether or not to roll up my cuffs. Or whether or not I actually have a text. Or if I just need one to come in immediately so I don't have to start up a conversation. It's warm, wow. Yeah, and it was so cold. Everything that's not Greg seems like that hormonal pileup outside that church. It's just so hopeless. I can't do that anymore.

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