May 19, 2009
That I sometimes inexplicably disappear. That you sometimes find me elsewhere staring into space, smiling. That I often stand in the corner of crowds quietly watching everyone interacting, laughing. That I don’t always want to hear myself talk. That when you listen carefully, I might be funny. That clouds sometimes float behind my eyes when I think. That I plot my time (my self) on a line or a chart or a map or a poem or an electronic photo album. These qualities should not come as a surprise to you; I met your dad—I think we share them.