My Own Two Feet

I have arrived at a plateau in life. I took a leap of faith and moved to Fort Smith Arkansas with a little bit of money in the bank, and what little I owned. Now, three weeks later, I have a house full of furniture, full cabinets, food in my refrigerator, and a little bit of money in the bank. I am surviving, which is all I can do. I shall start school at the University of Arkansas on August 21st. I know that working full time at night and taking 16 college hours will be tough. I will have 11 books to lug around, and undoubtedly lots of homework, and by next semester I will need a car, or I will not be able to continue with my major, English Education, because I will need transportation to get me to my observations and internships when they arrive. All of this is not worrying me, because I know that I always bounce back, and now will be no exception. I am just trying to evolve. Robert lives in the same town, just three doors down from me, but I try not to think about him too much. I try to live my life, and just move on down the road. I know that someday, I’ll either get over him, or he’ll get over whatever it was that made him run away, but whatever happens, I know that I will be okay, because I am working on me now. I am doing what I need to do. Between school, and work, and studying, and sleeping, and meals, and exercise, and everything else, how will I have time to miss what might have been? Hightower Tony–I went to the post office, and I waited in line, and I waited in line, and I waited in line, and my letters got stamped, and I paid in quarters, and I got back 4 pennies, and a nickel, and I did not think about you at all, at all. I did not think about you at all, and at the supermarket I bought lots of grapefruit, although I hate grapefruit, I bought tons of grapefruit, and the woman at the register, now that I think back, had the same color hair, and the same kind of smile, but I swear all the while that I did not think about you at all, at all. I did not think about you at all. How could I, when the world is starving, and everyone’s carving everything to bits? How could I, when between my job, and this band, and my bed, nothing else fits? So I went home, and except for listening to your records, and reading that book you gave me, and going through your records, and sleeping on the wrong side of the bed, and dreaming you were still here, and waking up sweating, and crying in the shower, and reading your letters again, except for then, I did not think about you at all, at all, and I did not think about you at all, at all, and I did not think about you at all, at all. I did not think about you at all.

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