excavation

i moved some stuff in my apartment around today and unearthed an old, small, spiral-bound notebook.

these are the best finds of all. i see my own scrawl in different pens and it's like looking at pictures i forgot i took. names with phone numbers that are no no longer familiar, non-sensical notes with long-extinct shorthand, but occasionally something funny enough to be precious, or precious enough to be funny.

this made me laugh out loud:

in conjunction with fears
we will not be going out today.

sometimes there's something that almost sounds like wisdom, like:

trying to protect your territory
is fraught with misery.

or something that brings back a poignant memory:

where were you, sisters, when i was marching for your lives?

and, once in a while, something almost like prose:

no such luck is mine today
hair dull, fingers thick,
eyes gray
muscles full of can't

and that's just the first page.