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1. Do the makers of “Jurassic World” expect us all to forget what happened at “Jurassic Park”? I’m just seeing a remake. How could we ever forget?! Never forget, y’all. So, do you want to go to the movies with me?

2. Keep talking, keep telling me all of your problems and your messed up perspective of the world, you’re giving me so much information for me to use in my future poems about you!

3. I love this song. It’s terrible! It’s amazing! It sounds like this guy has allergies/is crying/is super happy/doesn’t know how to speak English. ALSO, how do hip hop dudes decide on their hip hop names? Because it seems like they draw random words out of a hat. “Chedda Da Connect? It’s perfect!

4. How to win hearts: http://imgur.com/gallery/SDUYW

5. Remember pencil chewers? Me too. Remember borrowing a pencil and holding it in your hand and realizing not only was there no eraser (so therefore the pencil was useless!), but the metal part was all chewed so therefore had been in someone’s mouth!? Yeah.

6. I was sitting at a table full of strangers recently. A few years ago that would’ve terrified me, but these days I love meeting new people. Not, like, talking to them or anything, just meeting them. Which sometimes involves a bit of talking, but, whatever. So there I was, meeting these people, listening to them tell me about their really exciting lives (or their really not exciting lives). This one guy was really outgoing and funny and a great story teller, and this other guy sitting next to him was pretty quiet and mousy and shy. And I remember thinking about this quiet dude, and I compared him to the talkative funny dude, and, even though I am a quiet dude myself, I thought badly of him for not being interesting enough! Even though I was doing the exact same thing! Maybe he has a personality, just not at a table full of strangers? Anyway, what’s the point of all of this? I don’t know. Maybe that I’m a terrible person. Maybe I judged that guy harshly for being a quiet person because I am one. And/or because all of my friends have always been more boisterous than me/I’m usually the quiet person/I don’t know how to talk to quiet people.

7. You can sit still as much as you want, but the world keeps on spinning, with or without you.

8. Small screaming children and drunken old people are pretty much the same.

9. I can’t fix all of your problems/everything that’s wrong with you! You’ve got to do something!

10. You should really focus on yourself. I know it’s easy/feels better to focus on other stuff/less important things/other people/drama/netflix, whatever it is you’re distracting yourself with. (Bob’s Burgers?? No way! I would never.) But it’s really not better. ALSO, you should read this article on Vice; it’s really good and talks about some of the same sort of things. Because no one yells at you enough these days!

He’s in the front row of the passenger van making a fake music video with his friends. Earlier I told him I liked his poetry and he smiled at me – but still I find myself in the middle row seat, alone.

The guy who wears a beret over his dreads made us pull over while we were driving a few days ago. He got so high on something that he had the driver stop the van so he could crack the door open and puke. He apologized to me as he retreated to the back row of seats – he lives back there, sleeping as much as he can as we travel from city to city, from stop to stop.

With Apple earbuds in my ears, I’m listening to another boy’s music. There are so many men I’m in love with – maybe one or two remember that I exist.

You wouldn’t believe how kind he is until you experienced it for yourself – I’m talking about the man in the van. He likes sea creatures and he refuses to kill spiders. He’s different.

The only thing wrong with him is that he’s even whiter than I am – and he smokes weed. But it seems like everyone from where he’s from smokes weed, so I don’t know.

I can remember how I met him – how his group of friends chose me out of the rest of the crowd of strangers to take the picture because I was a girl, and girls are less likely to steal iPhones. I remember how it took longer than they thought it would to get everyone together, and how he kept looking at me, making sure I was still there, still had the iPhone. That was the first time I ever held one. That was the first time a stranger had ever asked me to take their picture.

No, that’s not true. It happened for the first time a few weeks before that, when I was in California. I was sitting on the beach with my friend and this lady asked me if I could take a picture of her and the guy she was with. I had asked where they were from, and they had said Germany or some other European country –  I forget where exactly. I wish I remembered that. She said they were on their honeymoon. I wonder if they framed any of the pictures I took. I wonder if they’re still married.

The song ends and my iPod shuffles to the next one – a slow, sad song. I turn it off and tuck the music player away in a pocket of my bag. The girl in the passenger seat of the van is laughing and singing along to the radio. I don’t know her very well. Two days ago she was having boyfriend issues, and asked me for advice. I’m pretty good at giving advice even though I’ve never had much experience with anything.

We’re approaching our exit, now. Almost there. The driver presses on the brake and something hits the back of my foot. I look down and it’s the cup that he got earlier from the smoothie place – I’m still talking about the man in the van. The inside has some kind of orange vegetable pulp clinging to it. I gently pick it up off the dirty floor and place it on the seat beside me.