after days of not seeing the sun shine (metaphorically and literally), i kept wanting to ask someone to go have lunch with me sometime. i don’t know, i guess now that i think about it, it seems quite cheesy and like something you’d see in an incredibly lousy and sappy movie about teen angst. picture someone who hasn’t gotten out of bed in nine days just calling up an old pal and saying, "hey, i haven't talked to you in months but do you want to have lunch with me sometime?" seems a bit overdone, but it was just an impulse i had i guess. i longed for company even though i couldn’t drag myself out of bed. i wanted someone to tell me all about how terrible i looked and to make me laugh and to listen to me complain about how cold my feet are all the time. i think things like that are important. i once told a boy that loved me very much that it is important to get things out there even if no one ever listens to them. those were not very sober thoughts, but i think it has been the most crucial thing i have ever said to someone. he told me that it’s important to know that someone is always listening to the things you think need to get out there. i think that’s true, but sometimes we just like to think nobody is listening to them and i'm not very sure why. Maybe there's a weird sort of reassurance in thinking that the words that matter the most will be as lost "out there" as they were "in here", as i like to call it. i think it’s important to still love things like warm cups of tea in the middle of the night and sitting on porches chain smoking and smiling no matter how cold it is outside and how it feels when someone slips their hand into yours and the sound of children laughing, even when you have to have someone remind you to eat every day. i think that even when it feels like somebody is stepping on your chest wearing spiked shoes, it's important to scan the room for a familiar smile and warm brown eyes and i think it's important to remember that the world is not as bad as we think it is.