i was just sitting here and thinking about a memory, vague and broad, of being sixteen. driving and feeling excited about each thing, little, i was myself. and then if someone wanted to hear what i knew, like we had never shared such simple things before, ideas that seemed big. sitting on the hoods of our cars, feeling so good at understanding our ideas.
so then, this thought, more specifically wondering how much harder it is to listen when we're not so enchanted anymore by our biggest realizations. i keep having them, finding them more difficult and less interesting to share. so then, this: what if i jst kept them to myself, like would they still be grand, true, and important? keeping me mouthes shut, now.
