Miminality

I first met Shion in 2005, a few months after he returned from America I think, and in a few days he’s going away again. He had been printing out a bunch of photos to keep with himself, and last afternoon I was surprised to discover I was in any of them at all. From where I stand now 2005-06 seems like a miraculous time, ‘good old days’ as Shion calls them (though I would be more cynical, I would snigger and laugh), back when we thought we were so special and so unbeatable and the world couldn’t have enough of us. But I was surprised, because I could hardly have been what you’d call good friendship material, back in those days. All I remember of myself is a clumsy bundle of intense, unformed naivete and bad attitude – loving hard, fighting hard, dreaming the hardest – the youngest, the foolishest of all and thinking she was the smarter than everyone else. Such days as will never be again. ‘Good old days’, Shion? Maybe. Maybe not.

I don’t know, I don’t know. I miss everything and nothing, I miss nothing. I drift and shed and let it all become someone else’s life. I use the word ‘friend’ with paranoid thrift or else I throw it around casually, and sometimes I let myself forget the difference. I’ve stopped trying to make meaning of anything a long time ago but a blog post is free to write, so I may.