everything this morning is fusing into a cloud of nice things. mama ended the night with a story about grandpa, and in between the drag i took between the last half-sentence and now, the sky has gone from dusk-blue to dawn-dawn. spotify is (at my bidding) singing tunes from my 14 and all the nice things come to mind; the birthday i’d been gifted five tall cans of Pringles, the time mama rang the police on a cloudy day up eleven storeys high because i was wailing, the clever trick she used to play where snickers bars would magically appear in the middle section of the refrigerator if u would just shut your eyes and count to 8. the time grandma fetched me to the highly competitive sandwich making competition and i’d convinced her that copious amounts of mini m&ms belonged in there with lettuce and tomatos to which she had lovingly said ‘yes’. an unrequited crush i don’t regret, the stubborn lingering smell of excessively sanitised dying people in the hospice too close to the light and too close to my heart. u can wish those things into a cloud and they fall like soft rain (very lovely)

the world spins madly on. yet in the pertinent words of the Goo Goo Dolls: i’ll become what u became to me