And · in · my · best · behavior

(All the glory when you ran outside
With your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied
And you told me not to follow you.)

EDIT: took out the emo angst bull shit. I wrote about a song.

Anyways, the song would be "Casimir Pulaski Day" by Sufjan Stevens.
(mp3- http://whereisyourmind.com/MP3/2005/casimir_pulaski_day.mp3)

(In the morning when you finally go
And the nurse runs in with her head hung low
And the cardinal hits the window.)

(I almost forgot who I was, but came to my senses)

It was one of those beautiful moments where you feel perfect and endless and fulfilled and happy for the first time in a long time.

The day before we left Pennsic, carting stuff out to the parking lot to store in the trailer, was overcast.
The back of the truck was packed with stuff to bring up to storage, mom and Justin sat in the front. Nathan and I left the trunk of the Element whide open, because there was very little room, and it was the only place we'd fit.
We sat there on the edge, cramped together, our legs swung over the side nearly grazing the ground. We held on to the side as not to fall out of the back, smiling and laughing together like we did the year we first met.

We got to the field past the parking lot full of Pennsic storage trailers, and we filled ours up with the tables, camp chairs, tiki torches and memories of the ending camp week.

On the way back, Nathan and I still sat in the back trunk.

The doors whide open, still close together.

Bright Eyes, "Nothing Gets Crossed Out" came on, and we all sat in this perfect silence.
The wind hit our faces and the dust kicked up behind the truck.
We drove past the trailers, past the parked cars, past the battle field and the merchant tents, the royal encampments.
The music filled us and we listened and smiled.
Just as we passed the battle ground, Justin spoke up.

"It's going to be a great year."

He said it slowly, quietly. There was silence.

We smiled, and I replied, "Yeah, it is."
No one said anything else. We didn't have to.

To say that at the very end of our two weeks, the end of summer.
I think we all sort of connected then, while a beautiful song played in the background.
One of those moments in time where you look around you and at everything and everyone and you know you understand.
That moment where you really, really are the epitome of happiness.

(Remember all those songs and the way we smiled, in those basements made of music)

(I wish the world was flat like the old days
Then I could travel just by folding a map.)

Everything just hit me.
I don't ever have to go back to middle school.
Locker cleaned out, gone with some old paintings from Rusoff and an art college summer class scholarship. Prestigious, she says, good job.
I'm not going.
I feel like there should be something else, not just a certificate of completion and a shitty report card.
I thought about that today. Stuff like middle school, what I left it with.
For once I'm not going to pretend I know the answer for myself.
I'm so different than the mousy fifth grader I started out as, yeah.
But I haven't changed any.

It's been swell, but the swelling's gone down.

I always got bored of things quick anyways. Highschool.
Okay, action, all quiet on the set.
Let's just see how this episode goes.
One strip of film so by god, make it exciting.

(So this is the new year.
And I don't feel any different.)

(But after the children had gone a few steps down the room they came to faces that looked a little different. These were very solemn faces. You felt you would have to mind your P's and Q's, if you ever met living people who looked like that.)

5 days of school left.
I don't know, no more Jr High?
Highschool?
As in, 4 years and then college. I don't think I like the quick rate things are moving.

PS,
JOURNAL CHANGED TO SEMI FRIENDS ONLY. some posts will be public, okay? ok. this only applies to my lj readers.

I like lazy Saturdays with nothing to do but clean and watch the OC. I really do.
I don't look like Billy Becks no matter wich way you slice it, either. Sorry Gabbs.
I was looking at pictures from Pennsic 30 this afternoon.
Years ago.
And at first it was all the-way-we-were
and then I saw the picture
of Nathan and I walking back to camp from the fireworks.
and for a too-tall, too-skinny boy he is amazing.
nothing has changed and nothing will.
11 and some months between our two weeks together each year but those geeks and I still have killer D and D games and water fights in the street and don't grow apart.

I'm excited to go back because amongst the nerds and nothings and dressing up there are people that I lovelovelove.
Pirate boys playing soccer with rubber skulls and assassin's game at the fire party. Showing skivvies to pirates. Mudthrowing and sleepwalking.
It's all fun and stupid and ridiculously tame that I would have it no other way.

(But who could have heard such a prayer, from such a man as him? There was no Saint of Killers then.)