The day ran very slow today and on the 3^rd base stretch between my lunch and last break, a guy that I’ve seen come through a few times come in once more wearing a gray shirt.  I’ve always had my eye on him for some strange reason, one downfall of his only being that he smokes Turkish Jades, but it happens to be forgivable. In any case, he came through buying from a little UPC sticker this $60 arrangement of flowers, paid with a 100 dollar bill, and went on his way.  A bit, possibly a half hour, later, I was sent on my break, but as I was signing off of my lane, the girl working floral came up with this delightfully huge arrangement of flowers.  My first assumption was that she was buying them, wrong.  Second was there was some joke being played on me here, wrong.  Apparently they actually were mine, interestingly enough.  I opened up the card and a short letter with a phone number is written on a separate piece of paper inside, signed someone named Travis.  Well, I don’t happen to know any person named Travis that would ever buy me flowers, so I asked the floral girl who this was, and she said that she though he had gone through my line, a guy with a gray shirt.  So at the bottom of all of these shenanigans is a 21 year old buying $60 flowers for a 17 year old cashier at Hilander.  A girl he has spoken to so few times previous.  The concept is so mind-blowing and immensely difficult to grasp that one cannot even come to a conclusion about his motives, his reason for paying so much to respond to these motives, and the amazing point he has created in the time and life of one teenage girl.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And then one fine morning—

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Is that not the most purely truthful thing ever written in such a cryptically delightful manner?  There is nothing more to my thoughts right now than the ceaseless struggle for life.  Everything is so extremely pointless and the opposite of meaningful.  Pure fun without any intoxicant and frisbee could never please me more than they did tonight.  Everything ended as it should.