(no subject)

Fall always makes me fidgety, blissful, hungry, despondent, and introspective by turns. When I walk around campus, I push through throngs of kids-that-were and kids-today; there are ghosts everywhere. Ghosts of buildings, conversations, ghosts with whisper-light touches and snarling, snapping ghosts. I feel like the hallways will open up a giant hole and I'll tumble through, through the decades and fetch up at my 19-year-old roller-blade-shod feet.

I like my job. I like it more than any other jobs I've had except Juniper, until Juniper went all wrong. And yet, it's not easy. Some days I feel like we're all playing poker, except I don't know any of the cards in my hand or anyone else's.

I have a paper to write.