tribute to paris

Paris means more to me than a class, and I know most of us feel this way. Too many nights I have spent writing instead of sleeping. I should’ve been sleeping. But Paris keeps me awake because the lights are too bright and the people outside never stop talking. The words won’t stop coming even though its not for a grade, and I have to many drafts of everything. The dropbox on my laptop is full; I guess words can’t sleep either.

We watched dance videos and talked about love and commented on alta june and wished we were avery moon. We made videos and dressed up like hipsters and listened to hipster music and maybe for a while we were. Because I could comment on your blog while you sat by the knight, and you commented on mine while I sat at home on Friday night. I could make videos and go places by myself and be the bravest I’ve ever been. He told us how he was afraid of the future and I told you I was afraid of fake. We wrote about the cracks in our hearts and we stitched them up with the words that we could count on, that wouldn’t disappoint, that wouldn’t get mad or ground us. I let you know me, and I knew you too.

You learned all about Auburn Crane Hannah Smith a girl I don’t even know anymore. 

Does anyone even know anymore?

I feel like I’ve told you so many times what my name is. What my name isn’t.

The truth is that no one has ever gotten my name right. Because I’m an identical twin and apparently look like an Ashley. Because its way to easy for me to fade into the papers I write. Because I’m better at walking and walking and walking through the halls during lunch than push past anyone in the commons. 

So its ok with me if you know me or not. And whether you know me as Auburn or Hannah really depends on you. And sometimes I'm more Auburn, and sometimes I'm more Hannah and sometimes I'm neither. I guess if you really want to get to know me, get to know my blog, and forget my name.

Simply, Me