A night in

" there is something deep inside of me. "

Something I haven't felt before. Today my professor explained something as "new" anger. The anger that re-pumps you up when you reflect on something that made you mad. I let myself get re-angry all the time. It helps pass the time, though. And one day I won't regret where it gets me. With how things have gone in my life thus far, it'll take me where ever I want to go. "Not with that attitude," they'll say. But how can I make up cheap enthusiasm when all we are dealing with is money.
Money
I am reflecting on my parents' life or what their life would have been like. I feel tears drowning the inside of my skull like when you boil water with the lid on. Of course, I am not crying. My eyes are soft and glassy. The wine like a blanket from the dryer, over on the table still warm for maybe another hour. I do not discount my parents life no matter how simple it is. It's so much more complicated now and I refuse to leave them behind. At least they never cock blocked me - literally never. I love them because they remind me of cats. I never would have thought that people younger than me would be that much sassier than me. I miss my loves of summer. My brow furrows and my heart is sensational. This unexpressed joy is deep inside of me, like the brain dead patient that could sprout back to life, theoretically. I have been wanting a night at home like this for a while.
Lonesome
Though. I wish I had a cigarette and my friend just happens to call me as I light it.