The friendly, glowing green elves who helped you learn Erlang that one time when your doctor mis-calibrated your insomnia meds in Bedford
The violent hum adrift from your lovingly macguyvered amplifiers before your last indie rock garage band show in Denton, a girl's nightmare flashlight party held together with old tape and regaining dignity on the Tokyo subway
The proud grin an artist gives her wheatpaste when walking by on an autumn afternoon in Portland; What do we do when we can't be together? Waiting for something to happen
A flicker of reality, when sleep first breaks, that shoves you back into the realm of the living
The realization that the feelings everyone has been encouraging me to hide and control are the only things that make life worth living. Changing them is changing the fabric of me. This is how people grow up
Those tiny water droplets that seem to float in the air, as if time has stopped. In the breeze quiver with anticipation of what is to come.
Wishing time would stop, yet knowing there is more to come.
Curiosity saved this cat
The glow of the lifelike bluish purple entities roaming around the house at night for a full two decades before you knew that synaesthesia is genetic
The tree could not have been planted without the two little workers, in pink dresses, muddy barefoot, wrestling too-large shovels and dirt in the rain because: helping
The billowing cloud of clutch dust as you figured out how to drive a stick during a snow storm on Autobahn 3 and promptly got lost in the mountains
The mix of loud chuckles and hushed outrage in the crowd as you welcomed your friend from Tel Aviv with signs reading "lesbians", "monkeys", and "soy" in large, friendly letters