Never underestimate your capacity for:
creative cosplay
the duckface you mock in others
hair so bad you swore never again until today,
then, the mirror, the howcomenoonetoldme?
Never overestimate the social market for:
creative duckface
the cosplay you mock in others
eyehangs so bad you swear next time will be sun
glasses, or more water, or sleep, or no allergies.
Okay, fine.
It was the summer of pastel sweaters, went so
far to flirt with polos, didn't like yacht rock but
wanted invites to the parties. didn't have a 401K
but could agree about Murakami and headfake through
a conversation about Rose. far less responses to
this post from when, but you were less connected then/
whatever
happened to that scarf?
Never underestimate your capacity for:
nostalgia for coping-benders
nostalgia for drunk poetry readings and the afterlaughs
nostalgia for inadequate grocery stores
nostalgia for the people with the droning speech and
single college anecdote
soyoungthen.
Never overestimate your tendency to:
overfilter photographs of milk/ cookies.
self-congratulate for reality television
idle judgement on a brew of coffee as your frozen
pizza burns.
but at least I--
It was the winter of mixed drinks. like most winters,
punctuated by January's forced moderation and the
half-week of snowball fights. the best thing about it,
even then, were the pictures of friends, best ones,
collapsed in banks outside rest areas. action shots
snowballs quick and in-frame. that was a time ago,
now, algorithm calculated for nostalgia,
for when it snowed,
when we were
there, naming our adventures
when that was even a frame
we'd all be in.
.
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