black smocks with attempted displays of honor tacked on as heavily as possible. time flowing like molasses and me wishing i had brought a book. names called with some being bleated and and cried from the ice hockey arena while others only cut cool silent air. mine with only a swedish 'whoo hoo!' hurled from the ceiling. family was 9 strong with different accents - though mostly southernly drawn.

then time speeds to neck breaking heights. whirling wind of friends and professors, people i've never seen and those i'll never see again. blistering heat and medals, once sources of pride and honor inside, are transformed into atlas like burdens of sweltering reprimand. flashes firing like a war zone, and me caught in the middle. not knowing where to go or who to see. many lost in the melee.

another night before and that same day, too many seeyoulaters. felt strangely surreal, with me not knowing whether to laugh nervously or cry. that's the thing with seeyoulaters, is that often enough they're misnomers. i hope not. most, disturbingly enough, will probably escape my grasp without me being terribly upset about it. but there are others: my armful of the lonliest monk; my swedish alcoholic brethren; small japanese hands. there are others, of differing degrees of seperation and longing, but the fact reamins the same. seeyoulaters are most often metaphors for goodbye. we never want to say it. goodbye. it's much too strong of a word for me. it leaves me feeling cold and lonely...