two moments. this, now, reflecting on what happened just before another happening...

one: we're in gowns, sky blue, three hours of ceremonies and pomp-and-circumstance. as we slowly file out orderly lines disorient themselves into a mess. turning around I half-step on a girl's foot. instantly I see her face contort into this expression of disgust and pain and regret as my other hand goes out to steady her and say, hey, sorry, but her features twist and wrinkle into that sort of an expression just so expressive and repugnant. and another instantly: instantly I decide that that's not the kind of life I want to lead; I know this stems from unfounded conjecture but I don't know this girl anyways and won't ever see her again; that that's not the kind of place I want to be like this imaginary girl face twisting along lines of repugnance, horror, disdain. never.

two: swirling lines, folding onto each other. I think of proteins, folding, a hole bored through a phone book skewering names together, specific linkages degenerating into arbitrary connections. folded, flipped, turned.