Bang-Bang

Confronted Glory. There was no screaming or smiting involved, but he was so damnably unflustered that perhaps some screaming and smiting should have been, and might’ve done him (and I) some good.

Furthermore, he asked if I was alright. There was a moment of dumbfounded silence;

am I alright?

Maybe he meant ‘are we alright?’ It would be, after all, the same thing that I’d asked him. ^
THIS BLOG POST IS INCOMPLETE BUT HERE IT IS, Q!

But I think the only thing of significance that might’ve happened—one never knows with Wilder—is when I was saying that the Whig was spectacular in that he didn’t leave me feeling that I was good enough to make out with, though not good enough to go out with. ^^

^He said yes, we were alright.

Perhaps this post would be a wee bit more coherent if it were written as it happened. Chronological time vs. relative—but was that the term? Chronological time as opposed to the time that is remembered, time that is given its significance based not on where if happened on the time line, but its emotional import. I’m fairly certain that, at the moment, I’m writing this in time that is remembered. This says really rather dire things about my supposed felicity with the Whig.

…Consarnit, I am happy.

^^This seems to be my more common complaint of late: James, Glory, Thomas. They all have their mitigating factors, of course, but still. Frelling hell.