sometimes there's airplanes you can't jump out

(of).

Several times a week (less if it's a good week, more if it's not), I try to unravel the ever-present riddle: What am I supposed to be doing? The brain and the good grades -- what were they meant to lead to? Did I ever know? I don't know that I did, which is a small comfort, because then I can't fully disappoint myself. But I can be mostly disappointed, which I am on the bad days.

Then there are the moments like today, when I stand in the black suit and the high heels, and out of all the teenage girls lined up and waiting for this to begin, one of them breaks formation to wave at me and grin. Like we're in on a secret. Like she's genuinely thrilled that I'm here, that we're existing in the same space.

At those times, I feel like I'm circling closer to the answer.

...

I wrote this post on the sixth of November, but I'm changing the published date to the fifth. Just because I can, y'all.

However, here are two songs:

#312: White Lies, "To Lose My Life"
#313: White Lies, "Farewell To The Fairground"

And a last line:

"There must be something wrong with the man."