06 september 2003.

when it got too hard for most of them to breathe, we retreated home (to what we know as home now) to bring it all out in order to put it away. i sink into jess's bed and would probably fall off if it weren't for that wall behind me. it holds up my shoulders like two sturdy hands, its palms made of white plaster.

she turns the cards over and her eyes widen or close, to represent concentration or surprise, accordingly. and it's all making sense, i nod slowly and take in every word. "there's a lot of love here..." she explains, pointing to golden cups and speaking deeper than usual. her head is facing down, but her eyes are looking into mine and the words creep out, "dont fall too fast." she asks if i understand and then repeats it, taking an equally long pause between each syllable. "dont. fall. too. fast."

as if it's something i can control. something to turn off or on like radio dial, except the slow song lyrics are life.