Little BetterMature

I've got a habit in the dark--

lying underneath the covers,

all curled up on my side--

enumerating my actions with the soft, lame light of the moon on the clothes on the floor.

1. I cursed at my maths assignment, and frequently, and with vehemence.

2. I completed all of my homework, because I am paying for this college, and I'll be damned if I simply ignore all those papers because, like the loud broad sat across from me trumpeted in a magnificent display of irresponsibility, "it only counts for 50 points out of 600 and we'll still pass without it".

3. I've got a good job and I work with lovely people and I've got bad habits of being a prat to them when I could be nice, and yet I still manage to be nicer than all of them, and I'm not bragging that's just how it is, if they'd see inside this brain they wouldn't like me so much, not at all, and isn't acting differently a sin anyway and aren't I just deceiving everyone but where's the harm in being polite and do I have to proper apologize for everything?

4. I painted my fingernails last night and let them get dented and chipped; the manicure's demise is inevitable, and I try to let it remind me of my own finite existence, though I do a poor job.

5. My pens and pencils lie neglected in the bottom of my navy backpack and strewn among the papers on my desk and I haven't touched them in days except perhaps to scrawl "GREEK PEOPLE MAN" in excitement on Astronomy 101 notes.

6. My room is a mess.

(7. My mind is messier than that.)

8. I'm up too late-- always up too late-- and always rise after that ridiculous alarm each morning. Get on that, I can remind myself, but I don't.

9. I've been a good friend to some, and to more than usual (or at least different ones), and "I'm spending too much money but people know that I love them and that counts for something, right?" I'll mutter to my electronic bank account in my laptop across the room.

10. I sat with a boy I graduated with today, on a funny tiny bench at a round table out in the sunlight with a grated metal seat between us, and now all I can think is how differently I see the world around me now, and how many colors I didn't know existed, and how many words I wish I didn't (--and how the constant he seems to me and how lovely that is).

As my mind slows and my pulse slips into a restful pace,

I consider these things

and come to the unsurprising and inevitable conclusion I have every night in the half-light and in the tiredness of my muscles right down into my bones.

I've gotten a little better, and loads worse.

The End

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