It seems likely that if I were to give form to what I believe is my roommate’s abstraction of me, it would be some parts of a pencil eraser that someone blew to the floor after erasing something they didn’t want someone else to see.
2015-07-22 08:30:30 GMT
— Sam Pink, Person
My roommate says, “For some reason I expected there to be like, a little giraffe inside the orange when I peeled it.” “I am glad there wasn’t,” I say. We laugh.
When I wake up, one of my legs is numb. And I remain awake in my sleeping bag, staring at the blinds until the black behind gets more blue, then lighter blue, then white. Sometimes I definitely feel a sense of accomplishment but it’s never after accomplishing something.
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