Have I told you the thing that I did on Monday that made me feel so incredibly stupid? I don't think I have. Monday day, before this all happened, I had gone to Squirrel Hill to pick up yet another roll of film, mostly containing pictures of him. There was one picture from the previous roll that I especially loved (and one or two from the new roll that I was pretty fond of), so I shopped around a bit and found two picture frames -- figured it was about time I put a framed picture of unixd0rk on display in my home. Anyway, right after I bought the frames, I ran into Ramon, and we went to The Squirrel Cage, and the time kind of got away from me ... unixd0rk and I had plans that evening to go see Hella at 8:00 pm, so after leaving Ramon, I didn't really have a lot of time to dick around at home ... I just kind of dropped off my stuff and left.
Of course Monday night I spent the night at unixd0rk's house, and Tuesday morning all Hell broke loose. I dropped him off at work, bought a pack of cigarettes, smoked one of those cigarettes, then went to the liquor store, then came home. And as I crawled into my apartment, what should I find sitting out on the coffee table but those damn picture frames, sitting there, chiding me: "Ha ha. Hey hopita, how stupid are you? Remember when you were in love, like, yesterday? Man, you are such a giant dummy ..."
I swear ... in all that drama I'd totally forgotten I'd even bought the damn things. They're still in the bag, still sitting on that table, and I have no clue what the fuck to do with them now. Put up pictures of him anyway? Smash them to little pieces? See if I can get my money back? Who knows. I just keep piling newspapers and trash on top of them and hoping that they'll stop taunting me one of these days.
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