There Comes A Point When

The Further You Go, The More You Have To Be Proud Of. At The Same Time, In Order To Come A Long Way, You Have To Be Behind To Begin With. In The End, Though Maybe It's Not How You Reach A Place That Matters. Just That You Get There At All.

A Second Later, When He Looked Up At Me, We Were Face To Face, And Again, Even Under These Circumstances, I Was Struck By How Good Looking He Was, In That Accidental, Doesn't-even-know-it Kind Of Way. Which Only Made It Worse. Or Better. Or Whatever. "yup", He Said, As If There'd Been Any Doubt, "you're In There, All Right." "i Was Warned, Too,"i Told Him, As He Stood Up. "i Just Saw That Sculpture, And I Got Distracted." "the Sculpture?" He Looked At It, Then At Me. "oh, Right. Because You Know It.

That Sucks, Though," Wes Said Finally, His Voice Low. "you're Just Setting Yourself Up To Fail, Because You'll Never Get Everything Perfect." "says Who?" He Just Looked At Me. "the World," He Said, Gesturing All Around Us, As If This Party, This Deck Encompassed It All. "the Universe. There's Just No Way. And Why Would You Want Everything To Be Perfect, Anyway?" "i Don't Want Everything To Be Perfect," I Said. Just Me, I Thought. Somehow. "i Just Want—

I'm Really Interested In The Idea Of Anomynity And Familiarity. And Sunglasses, You Know, Are So Indicatitve Of That. I Mean, They're Worn By Some People To Hide Themselves. But They're Also A Fashion Statement, Meant To Be Noticed. So There's A Dichotomy There.

Because Anyone That Can Make You Feel That Bad About Yourself Is Toxic.