and as we wind on down the road
our shadows taller than our soul
there walks a lady we all know
who shines white light and wants to show
I have been packing for weeks, putting more and more of my shit into boxes, and, ironically, the more shit I put into boxes, the worse my apartment gets, because shelves are coming down, and I was surprisingly efficient when it comes to storing an enormous amount of physical objects in a one bedroom apartment.
Until this point though, it didn't really feel like I was actually about to move. My close friends here keep bringing it up, telling me to stay, calling me an asshole for leaving (its how we show affection). I've been shrugging it off because what the hell do you say to that? I can't be honest and tell my friends I will actually miss them...that would single-handedly destroy everything I appreciate about our friendship.
Anyway.
Tonight, I put my awesome couch on craigslist for a mere $100, and less than an hour later I had a giant empty space in my apartment. And most of that hour was spent trying to navigate the couch through various paths out of the apartment. I probably should have charged more but thats not the point. The point is that with the couch gone, it has finally hit me that I'm fucking leaving.
The falco is probably going next.
*in real life this would totally have been a comma; I'm just correcting the grammar for your convenience. You're fucking welcome.
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