This afternoon, I walked out of my normal Tuesday/Thursday Victorian Poetry class completely refreshed. I feel like I'm back to my old self again and noticing the things that I so vividly remember getting completely over excited about.
Here goes....
It's a beautiful day outside and most people would think I'm going completely crazy. But, despite what others think, I'm most obviously not most people. It's a beautiful day outside in Madison and I couldn't be happier with the way things are looking outside at this very moment.
The snow is falling beautifully from the sky and each little flake, with its own design and pattern makes me itch with excitemenmt. They all, from the sky first slowly, then getting faster and heavier, like the sensual expression of kissing. Each flake kisses the trees on State Street and caresses each of us on the street. It's like the first snow all over again and each one makes me giggle inside thinking of spending nights cuddling up in a blanket to keep warm. It makes me think of you. But mostly, it keeps me confined in the aesthetic components of nature and how uplifting something like a simple snowfall can be.
Under normal circumstances, I would be cursing about having to drive in the snow, but today, even as I walked to my car knowing that I would soon have to drive in it, which I thought would ruin my sense of overjoy, I noticed that not once could I keep my face from formulating a smile. Not the kind that you fake on the street for the poeple you accidently meet eyes with, but the kind of smile that I'm almost embarrased to say is the smile that I get when I'm completely in love, completely flattered, or completely overcome with happiness. The kind of smile that you can't hold back, no matter how much you want to and in trying to do so, my smile only becomes more prominent. These transcendentalist views of nature make me feel like one of the great poets or cannonical writers that I can only strive to become.
Perhaps my writing isn't up to the par of the greatest writers of the romantic era that I so envy, but a writer, I will never fail to be. No one can take that away from me and it is intrinsic to me. It is not extrinsic, something that can be stripped of me. A musician, I once was, and that somehow has been stripped of me, if only partially. Because of my own medical problems with my hands, I have had to compromise my aspirations of being a true musician, but being a writer, I will have no one take from me. If nothing else, I write for myself, for my friends who sometimes listen or read, for my parents who wish the best for me, and for the people who read this and find some sort of truth, some kind of emotion, some kind of feeling that will move them, as other writers have done all too many times with me.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Friday, March 17, 2006
Sometimes
There are times when I wish that I could just tell you exactly what I feel...and then there are others that I'm so timid, so bottled up in myself that I can't imagine being so "forward" with you. Everything to me suddenly seems "too forward" and then I keep myself from doing the things that I want to do. I want you. I feed off of you. I want you sleeping next to me, waking up with me in the morning, kissing my neck, kissing my lips...I'd die for you to just put your arm around me or hold my hand, but I let everything subside because I want to know exactly how you feel first. I can't tell you the things I think about you and I know that there's no way you'd be reading this. No possible connections through you and all I can do is sit here and think about the times we've had together and so many of those times that I've left our business unfinished.
The night we played checkers, I wanted to just grab you across the table and kiss you all over. I've always wanted someone to be the one doing that to me, but quite frankly, that can't be the first move that you make on someone when you're a woman. When you're a women, the notions have to be subtle...until the relationship is serious. Once you're at that point, anything goes.
I want to be in that place. I want our little dates to go further...I want you to take me in your arms and tell me that you think about me when we're not together, that you want to take this further, that I'm not just wasting my time thinking about you... :-/
If I could tell you that I feel so strongly about you, I would. But I've got it all bottled up inside me like some little child, waiting, wishing, hoping.
I want you to take me, push me up against a wall...tell me you can't wait any longer, that you can't resist. I like you so much...and I've got all these pictures in my head.
When you were over at our apartment the other day, you were holding Rufus like a baby and I was fussing with Ru and just looked up at you thinking, wow, what if this was our child? All I wanted to do right then, at that very moment, was kiss you. When we were looking out my window at the different buildings, all I wanted to do was turn to you and kiss you. Just to have you close to me. When you were looking out the deck door and put your head next to mine trying to see the same view I had... You were so close. We were so close. THe thought of you kissing me was lingering over my tongue, making my lips instantly tingle with excitement as the mere thought of it makes me uneasy in my seat.
You're making me so uneasy in my seat. You're so gorgeous...so beautiful.
The night we played checkers, I wanted to just grab you across the table and kiss you all over. I've always wanted someone to be the one doing that to me, but quite frankly, that can't be the first move that you make on someone when you're a woman. When you're a women, the notions have to be subtle...until the relationship is serious. Once you're at that point, anything goes.
I want to be in that place. I want our little dates to go further...I want you to take me in your arms and tell me that you think about me when we're not together, that you want to take this further, that I'm not just wasting my time thinking about you... :-/
If I could tell you that I feel so strongly about you, I would. But I've got it all bottled up inside me like some little child, waiting, wishing, hoping.
I want you to take me, push me up against a wall...tell me you can't wait any longer, that you can't resist. I like you so much...and I've got all these pictures in my head.
When you were over at our apartment the other day, you were holding Rufus like a baby and I was fussing with Ru and just looked up at you thinking, wow, what if this was our child? All I wanted to do right then, at that very moment, was kiss you. When we were looking out my window at the different buildings, all I wanted to do was turn to you and kiss you. Just to have you close to me. When you were looking out the deck door and put your head next to mine trying to see the same view I had... You were so close. We were so close. THe thought of you kissing me was lingering over my tongue, making my lips instantly tingle with excitement as the mere thought of it makes me uneasy in my seat.
You're making me so uneasy in my seat. You're so gorgeous...so beautiful.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Movies, Movies, Watch all about it!
I'm crushing. I'm gushing. I'm... laughing my ass off at how ridiculous that sounds. Nonetheless, I'm comfortable with crushing. and gushing. (Note to self: again, ridiculous.) I'm flying high on mere thoughts.
I've known you for years and have had a childhood crush on you since...but since I had lost contact with you for a few years, things seemed to subside and there was no thought of even the possibility of you. I've always thought your allure was spectacular and the way you speak; I get so excited listening to you talk. We talk about everything and anything and none of it seems strange. It's so...comfortably sexy. You're so beautifully sexy. [Pan onto picture of planner on desk].
I love stability, I love order, I love that safe feeling of someone who can complete that. I adore you. I love your little quirks, the way you make everything fun and exciting. The way that coffee turns into a movie, which turns into dinner...so cute. [PAN CAMERA LEFT TO RIGHT THROUGH SMALL FRENCH-STYLE COFFEE SHOP, SMALL MOVIE THEATER, SMALL BISTRO STYLE RESTAURANT, LIGHTING IS DIM.]
If I don't see you this week, I might not know what to do with myself...
Ok. That's enough of me sounding like a little school girl full of emotions.
[Enter Reality.]
I've known you for years and have had a childhood crush on you since...but since I had lost contact with you for a few years, things seemed to subside and there was no thought of even the possibility of you. I've always thought your allure was spectacular and the way you speak; I get so excited listening to you talk. We talk about everything and anything and none of it seems strange. It's so...comfortably sexy. You're so beautifully sexy. [Pan onto picture of planner on desk].
I love stability, I love order, I love that safe feeling of someone who can complete that. I adore you. I love your little quirks, the way you make everything fun and exciting. The way that coffee turns into a movie, which turns into dinner...so cute. [PAN CAMERA LEFT TO RIGHT THROUGH SMALL FRENCH-STYLE COFFEE SHOP, SMALL MOVIE THEATER, SMALL BISTRO STYLE RESTAURANT, LIGHTING IS DIM.]
If I don't see you this week, I might not know what to do with myself...
Ok. That's enough of me sounding like a little school girl full of emotions.
[Enter Reality.]
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
There are Certain People/You just keep coming back to
I'm in one of those moods that I just can't quite explain...yet again. I'm listening to this song...over...and over...and over. And all I can think of is the shitty things that have gone on in all of my past relationships and how good things were between the two of us. I've been thinking a lot about you lately and have called you numerous times, yet you never answer your phone. Is it just because I'm the one calling you?
I'm at work...but I'm not working. It seems that no matter how much I want to leave here, I can't. This is more a home to me than my house.
Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.
Sometimes I like to kid myself and say that you'll come back, and then I realize that the hardest thing and the right thing aren't the same...and I know that you're thinking of someone else and thinking about how you want to be with Lacy.
If I wait until tomorrow, I hope I'll be alright...
I'm at work...but I'm not working. It seems that no matter how much I want to leave here, I can't. This is more a home to me than my house.
Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.
Sometimes I like to kid myself and say that you'll come back, and then I realize that the hardest thing and the right thing aren't the same...and I know that you're thinking of someone else and thinking about how you want to be with Lacy.
If I wait until tomorrow, I hope I'll be alright...
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Cutesy
It really surprises me how many people are unhappy in their marriages, yet do nothing about it. Some of my co-workers are married and yet, as happy as they seem and as lived as their life is, they still seem unhappy in their marriages. Yet, they do nothing about it. One of them is separated, and completely fine with it. The other, married, to a man whom she says does nothing around the house and just sits around all day. This, she despises. Maybe it's just easier to stay together? I don't want my life to turn out that way, where it's just easier to be together than to split because of costs, emotions, etc.
Relationships, it would seem, are almost flawed from the beginning. One of my other co-workers has been dating a guy on and off for years and she finally wants to break up with him for good. Yet, she doesn't know how. She loves him. He loves her. They're best friends. But, she wants nothing to do with that anymore. Co-worker #2's response? "Just tell him you're in love with someone else." Co-worker #3's response? "Just get married, it sounds like you fight like you already are."
Is that what we're bound to in life? Unhappiness and inadequate relationships? Are all of the cute things about relationships only a facade? My parents have been happily married for years and get mad at each other like any normal couple, but what keeps them together that doesn't keep a lot of people together? And if these factors aren't bad enough, Are we bound to cheat in relationships? I've cheated. A lot of people have. I don't see anything wrong with what I've done, per say, and I don't think that I should be punished for what I have done in the past. The past is the past and the present is now.
I don't regret the things I've done because that's not the way I believe life should work. Everything happens for a reason. A series of bad events are going to happen in your life, but that's not to say that we should regret the things that caused them. If you regret something, you're looking back on the past and wishing it had been differently. But, what I don't understand is if you want to take something back, you must have thought it was right at the moment that the event took place. Even our irrational thoughts are things that, at that moment, we believed to be "right" or "correct." You can't go back and change the things that happened, so why do we dwell upon it? "I regret that decision." Well, you very well may, but you can't go back and change it.
Relationships, it would seem, are almost flawed from the beginning. One of my other co-workers has been dating a guy on and off for years and she finally wants to break up with him for good. Yet, she doesn't know how. She loves him. He loves her. They're best friends. But, she wants nothing to do with that anymore. Co-worker #2's response? "Just tell him you're in love with someone else." Co-worker #3's response? "Just get married, it sounds like you fight like you already are."
Is that what we're bound to in life? Unhappiness and inadequate relationships? Are all of the cute things about relationships only a facade? My parents have been happily married for years and get mad at each other like any normal couple, but what keeps them together that doesn't keep a lot of people together? And if these factors aren't bad enough, Are we bound to cheat in relationships? I've cheated. A lot of people have. I don't see anything wrong with what I've done, per say, and I don't think that I should be punished for what I have done in the past. The past is the past and the present is now.
I don't regret the things I've done because that's not the way I believe life should work. Everything happens for a reason. A series of bad events are going to happen in your life, but that's not to say that we should regret the things that caused them. If you regret something, you're looking back on the past and wishing it had been differently. But, what I don't understand is if you want to take something back, you must have thought it was right at the moment that the event took place. Even our irrational thoughts are things that, at that moment, we believed to be "right" or "correct." You can't go back and change the things that happened, so why do we dwell upon it? "I regret that decision." Well, you very well may, but you can't go back and change it.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Hide and Seek:Lyrics and My Feelings
Imogen Heap - 'Hide and Seek'
where are we? what the hell is going on?
the dust has only just began to fall
crop circles in the carpet, sinking, feeling
spin me around again and rub my eyes
this can't be happening
when busy streets a mess with people would stop to hold their heads heavy
hide and seek
trains and sewing machines?
all those years they were here first
oily marks appear on walls
where pleasue moments hung before
the takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this
still alive
hide and seek
trains and sewing machines? oh, you won't catch me around here
blood and tears they were here first
mm what you say
oh that you only meant well, well of course you did
mm what you say
mm that it's all for the best, of course it is
mm what you say
that IT'S JUST what we need, you decided this
mm what you say
what did she say?
ransom notes keep falling at your mouth
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs
speak no feeling no i don't believe you
you don't care a bit you don't care a bit
ransom notes keep falling at your mouth
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs
speak no feeling no i don't believe you
you don't care a bit you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
---------------------------------------------------------------
This is just how I feel about one sided relationships:mm what you say
oh that you only meant well, well of course you did
mm what you say
mm that it's all for the best, of course it is
mm what you say
that IT'S JUST what we need, you decided this
mm what you say
--------------------------------------------------------------
That's right...you made the decision without me, just as men always do,
and the only thing I know for sure is that we're through.
That's something I can never live with and hope not to have to,
But just as much as I want that to be otherwise, there's no doubt that it's true.
This song reminds me of you, the nights at your apartment, waking up in the morning, and everything in between. It's too bad I adore this song...
where are we? what the hell is going on?
the dust has only just began to fall
crop circles in the carpet, sinking, feeling
spin me around again and rub my eyes
this can't be happening
when busy streets a mess with people would stop to hold their heads heavy
hide and seek
trains and sewing machines?
all those years they were here first
oily marks appear on walls
where pleasue moments hung before
the takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this
still alive
hide and seek
trains and sewing machines? oh, you won't catch me around here
blood and tears they were here first
mm what you say
oh that you only meant well, well of course you did
mm what you say
mm that it's all for the best, of course it is
mm what you say
that IT'S JUST what we need, you decided this
mm what you say
what did she say?
ransom notes keep falling at your mouth
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs
speak no feeling no i don't believe you
you don't care a bit you don't care a bit
ransom notes keep falling at your mouth
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs
speak no feeling no i don't believe you
you don't care a bit you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
---------------------------------------------------------------
This is just how I feel about one sided relationships:mm what you say
oh that you only meant well, well of course you did
mm what you say
mm that it's all for the best, of course it is
mm what you say
that IT'S JUST what we need, you decided this
mm what you say
--------------------------------------------------------------
That's right...you made the decision without me, just as men always do,
and the only thing I know for sure is that we're through.
That's something I can never live with and hope not to have to,
But just as much as I want that to be otherwise, there's no doubt that it's true.
This song reminds me of you, the nights at your apartment, waking up in the morning, and everything in between. It's too bad I adore this song...
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Won't Sleep Better Alone?
Pete Yorn, you may be wrong.
Today's English 473 was full of thoughts. Quite frequently during class, I had to sniff the beautifully sweet smell of the guy next to me, who wears the same cologne that you do. Thankfully, the guy sitting in front of him hadn't showered in a few days in order to cover up the 'stench' of your rememberance. I realized that in the process of experiencing the two types, no matter what you think...men all equal out to a result of zero.
Perhaps I should be giving up on the whole male race at this time, but sadly enough, I never do. I adore the thrill of "love" and everything that goes with it but, for now, I'm alone and that's the best way for me to be. I'm set in my ways, I don't want someone bossing me around and expecting things that I can't necessarily give. I love my busy schedule and all of the things that I pack into it. I'm slightly unreasonable about trying to be flexible and change that. There are few people that I would do that for. You, 5, are one of them.
Yet, I'm quite sick of the give and pulls of relationships that I tend to give and end up being the one who gives up everything. These sorts of unequal relationships are not something I'm looking for, nor do I currently think exist. There is no "ideal relationship" and if there is, it's tragic downfall will cause you to think otherwise. Perhaps there are truly ideal relationships, but me? I'm not a part of them. And right now, I don't want to be. I'm extatic to be by myself and living my own life and not having to worry about all those "other" people. I'm proud of being alone. This is the first time that I can comfortably say, I'm sincerely not interested.
The fact of the matter is, I do sleep better alone.
Today's English 473 was full of thoughts. Quite frequently during class, I had to sniff the beautifully sweet smell of the guy next to me, who wears the same cologne that you do. Thankfully, the guy sitting in front of him hadn't showered in a few days in order to cover up the 'stench' of your rememberance. I realized that in the process of experiencing the two types, no matter what you think...men all equal out to a result of zero.
Perhaps I should be giving up on the whole male race at this time, but sadly enough, I never do. I adore the thrill of "love" and everything that goes with it but, for now, I'm alone and that's the best way for me to be. I'm set in my ways, I don't want someone bossing me around and expecting things that I can't necessarily give. I love my busy schedule and all of the things that I pack into it. I'm slightly unreasonable about trying to be flexible and change that. There are few people that I would do that for. You, 5, are one of them.
Yet, I'm quite sick of the give and pulls of relationships that I tend to give and end up being the one who gives up everything. These sorts of unequal relationships are not something I'm looking for, nor do I currently think exist. There is no "ideal relationship" and if there is, it's tragic downfall will cause you to think otherwise. Perhaps there are truly ideal relationships, but me? I'm not a part of them. And right now, I don't want to be. I'm extatic to be by myself and living my own life and not having to worry about all those "other" people. I'm proud of being alone. This is the first time that I can comfortably say, I'm sincerely not interested.
The fact of the matter is, I do sleep better alone.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
The one that killed me most
The best gift I've ever received was from the love of my life...and I'm sitting here thinking about you again. I'm over you. I thought I was over you. I'm not quite sure if I'm over you. You're gorgeous and when I see men that look like you, I sometimes wish it was you. One of the most prized things that I own is the ring you gave me and everytime I think of you, I can't help but instantly needing to wear it and have that blue heart around my ring finger.
Maybe it's easiest for some to wear their heart on their sleeve. I wear mine on my finger. Perhaps it's easier to lose there.
I never use names in my blog and I tend to be very vague with most of the postings so that only certain people truly know what I'm talking about, but this time, I'm going to throw all of that out.
Josh, you kill me sometimes and I'm not quite sure why. You're the hearthrob I knew was out of my league, but you treated me like an angel anyway. I've never felt more comfortable, more relaxed, more...myself with anyone than you. Things were always perfectly set. I'd never have to tell you what I wanted, you'd never have to tell me what you wanted and everything was always a joint decision. We spent many a night watching movies, the tickling sessions, falling asleep in each other's arms. THAT was the thing I loved more than anything. Not the late intimate sessions or pulling each other closer; falling asleep with you was the thing I couldn't get enough of.
I loved it when you'd pull me closer, ask me not to leave, tell me to stay just 5 more minutes and I'd end up staying another half hour easily. I was never on time when I went out with you, but suddenly it was all ok. I was safe with you; nothing could tamper with that. There's so much more to tell about you and yet, there's still nothing more to say. You're gorgeous. You always will be gorgeous. And everytime I look at the ring you gave me, I know that WE were gorgeous. You'll always hold a chunk of my heart. Josh....
A little part of me died when I found out you were dating one of my close friends, whom I've known much longer than you have. It killed me instantly that you were so attracted with her and seemed to have lost all feeling if there ever were any for me. I wanted US to work, I didn't want you to work with one of my friends. A friend I really care about at that. Why? You loved her, you even told me you loved her...you never told me that. Perhaps that's a bit of jealousy...but we dated for a solid 8 months. The best 8 months of a relationship I've ever had and it seemed so easy for you to forget how the two of us ever were when you started to date her.
Yes, I want you to be happy. I want you to be happier than a child in springtime with a new bicycle. Josh, I loved you more than I thought I would ever let myself. And in fact, I never would let myself tell you that. The nights you'd spend sleeping, I'd spend watching you and stroking your hair, touching your face, knowing I had to tell you I loved you. And I would....but only when you were sleeping. At first, I couldn't imagine the two of you together...Were you using the same tricks on her that you used on me? You gave everything up for her and sometimes it seems, you never gave anything up for me...
My birthday that year was one of the best days I've ever experienced and I remember all of that moment in my room, the opening of the little box...the excitement. I remember having to go and show my sister while she was in the bathroom just to brag about how great it was and I cried a little when I told her. I was so damn happy. You made me so damn happy.
I was sick for weeks after you left me. I didn't eat for a week. I stayed in bed the entire day reading a book and crying after you left... I don't remember what the book was about at all. I remember the way you cried. I remember the way I felt like my stomach was coming out my mouth for days when I would get so upset that as a result I would get so sick and have to throw up in order to feel better...and of course, I never did feel better.
I miss having you close to me. I miss hearing your voice. I miss the feeling I'd have after being with you and I miss hearing you call my name. There always was something about the way you'd call me "Cat." I miss calling yours...hmm...Josh. It still rolls well of of my palatte.
Josh...
Maybe it's easiest for some to wear their heart on their sleeve. I wear mine on my finger. Perhaps it's easier to lose there.
I never use names in my blog and I tend to be very vague with most of the postings so that only certain people truly know what I'm talking about, but this time, I'm going to throw all of that out.
Josh, you kill me sometimes and I'm not quite sure why. You're the hearthrob I knew was out of my league, but you treated me like an angel anyway. I've never felt more comfortable, more relaxed, more...myself with anyone than you. Things were always perfectly set. I'd never have to tell you what I wanted, you'd never have to tell me what you wanted and everything was always a joint decision. We spent many a night watching movies, the tickling sessions, falling asleep in each other's arms. THAT was the thing I loved more than anything. Not the late intimate sessions or pulling each other closer; falling asleep with you was the thing I couldn't get enough of.
I loved it when you'd pull me closer, ask me not to leave, tell me to stay just 5 more minutes and I'd end up staying another half hour easily. I was never on time when I went out with you, but suddenly it was all ok. I was safe with you; nothing could tamper with that. There's so much more to tell about you and yet, there's still nothing more to say. You're gorgeous. You always will be gorgeous. And everytime I look at the ring you gave me, I know that WE were gorgeous. You'll always hold a chunk of my heart. Josh....
A little part of me died when I found out you were dating one of my close friends, whom I've known much longer than you have. It killed me instantly that you were so attracted with her and seemed to have lost all feeling if there ever were any for me. I wanted US to work, I didn't want you to work with one of my friends. A friend I really care about at that. Why? You loved her, you even told me you loved her...you never told me that. Perhaps that's a bit of jealousy...but we dated for a solid 8 months. The best 8 months of a relationship I've ever had and it seemed so easy for you to forget how the two of us ever were when you started to date her.
Yes, I want you to be happy. I want you to be happier than a child in springtime with a new bicycle. Josh, I loved you more than I thought I would ever let myself. And in fact, I never would let myself tell you that. The nights you'd spend sleeping, I'd spend watching you and stroking your hair, touching your face, knowing I had to tell you I loved you. And I would....but only when you were sleeping. At first, I couldn't imagine the two of you together...Were you using the same tricks on her that you used on me? You gave everything up for her and sometimes it seems, you never gave anything up for me...
My birthday that year was one of the best days I've ever experienced and I remember all of that moment in my room, the opening of the little box...the excitement. I remember having to go and show my sister while she was in the bathroom just to brag about how great it was and I cried a little when I told her. I was so damn happy. You made me so damn happy.
I was sick for weeks after you left me. I didn't eat for a week. I stayed in bed the entire day reading a book and crying after you left... I don't remember what the book was about at all. I remember the way you cried. I remember the way I felt like my stomach was coming out my mouth for days when I would get so upset that as a result I would get so sick and have to throw up in order to feel better...and of course, I never did feel better.
I miss having you close to me. I miss hearing your voice. I miss the feeling I'd have after being with you and I miss hearing you call my name. There always was something about the way you'd call me "Cat." I miss calling yours...hmm...Josh. It still rolls well of of my palatte.
Josh...
Monday, January 09, 2006
Search?
No matter how I look, what I'm searching, or what fields I change, You're always the one I find. There's something almost wrong with all of that. Realistically speaking, I mean. The more I want to write about it, the more I know I would hurt certain people in doing so and god damn it, I'm not going to do that. I hate having a secret life.....
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Things Everyone Should Know
Alright, So...this is a list of things that everyone should know concerning me. Why? Because then you won't have to ask. No, just kidding. It's more like random thoughts of the kitten...but good to know nonetheless.
1. I love turquoise in any color, size, or shape. Though, bigger and more gaudy is always better.
2. I rarely wear only one shirt.
3. I would be lost without my planner, cell phone, and ipod.
4. I love dancing by myself in my apartment once everyone has gone to bed.
5. You will RARELY see me in the color pink.
6. I'm a bit of an undercover feminist.
7. I love jamming on my violin to Dave Matthews Band.
8. I have too many pairs of shoes.
9. If my feet could handle wearing heels everyday, I would.
10. I gag at the thought of other people's hair on me.
11. I love a good bubble bath with a novel and soft music.
12. The most expensive thing I own is my ibook G4.
13. I try to be non-judgmental, but I adore going people watching.
14. I'm a post-it addict.
15. I love big puffy couches that consume you when you sit down. They're best for lounging and reading.
16. My biggest fear is dying alone and unloved.
17. I believe in old school romanticism with a modern flare.
18. I can lucid dream.
19. You can never make too many lists.
20. My best friend once told me the best cure for a hangover is a shower and a soda. She was right.
21. The best cure for cramps is chocolate. No joke.
22. I consider myself an artist.
23. No pattern is too bold. (Though some are HIDEOUS.)
24. I would die to own a pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes.
25. Someday, I will table dance at a bar. And some other day, I will do that sober.
26. I want to learn the drums.
27. Any man who (owns and) wears wingtips is my new best friend.
28. I own vegetarian friendly shoes.
29. Carrie Bradshaw is my hero. Idol?
30. Cynically sarcastic.
31. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.
32. There's something about finely written literature that gets me all hot and aroused with emotion.
33. There's a systematic way to shower. Body, Face, Hair. Unless you're in a hurry. Hair, Body, Face.
34. I revise while in conversation.
35. I HATE yellow roses. I love them, actually, but never want them given to me.
36. Procrastination gets the job done.
37. No matter how old I am, I still love a good disney movie.
38. Everything you want in life should be difficult to obtain. If it's too easy, it's too good to be true.
39. I don't care what everyone says, the book is ALWAYS better. Someone prove me wrong.
40. Target. I love you.
41. Drinking in the middle of the afternoon is never a good idea.
42. I still sleep with my childhood toy pet sometimes.
43. I love the feeling of clean sheets.
44. Cosmopolitans are my favorite drink.
45. If I'm in love with a song, I could listen to it 50 times in a row...and still want to hear it tomorrow.
To be continued...
1. I love turquoise in any color, size, or shape. Though, bigger and more gaudy is always better.
2. I rarely wear only one shirt.
3. I would be lost without my planner, cell phone, and ipod.
4. I love dancing by myself in my apartment once everyone has gone to bed.
5. You will RARELY see me in the color pink.
6. I'm a bit of an undercover feminist.
7. I love jamming on my violin to Dave Matthews Band.
8. I have too many pairs of shoes.
9. If my feet could handle wearing heels everyday, I would.
10. I gag at the thought of other people's hair on me.
11. I love a good bubble bath with a novel and soft music.
12. The most expensive thing I own is my ibook G4.
13. I try to be non-judgmental, but I adore going people watching.
14. I'm a post-it addict.
15. I love big puffy couches that consume you when you sit down. They're best for lounging and reading.
16. My biggest fear is dying alone and unloved.
17. I believe in old school romanticism with a modern flare.
18. I can lucid dream.
19. You can never make too many lists.
20. My best friend once told me the best cure for a hangover is a shower and a soda. She was right.
21. The best cure for cramps is chocolate. No joke.
22. I consider myself an artist.
23. No pattern is too bold. (Though some are HIDEOUS.)
24. I would die to own a pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes.
25. Someday, I will table dance at a bar. And some other day, I will do that sober.
26. I want to learn the drums.
27. Any man who (owns and) wears wingtips is my new best friend.
28. I own vegetarian friendly shoes.
29. Carrie Bradshaw is my hero. Idol?
30. Cynically sarcastic.
31. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.
32. There's something about finely written literature that gets me all hot and aroused with emotion.
33. There's a systematic way to shower. Body, Face, Hair. Unless you're in a hurry. Hair, Body, Face.
34. I revise while in conversation.
35. I HATE yellow roses. I love them, actually, but never want them given to me.
36. Procrastination gets the job done.
37. No matter how old I am, I still love a good disney movie.
38. Everything you want in life should be difficult to obtain. If it's too easy, it's too good to be true.
39. I don't care what everyone says, the book is ALWAYS better. Someone prove me wrong.
40. Target. I love you.
41. Drinking in the middle of the afternoon is never a good idea.
42. I still sleep with my childhood toy pet sometimes.
43. I love the feeling of clean sheets.
44. Cosmopolitans are my favorite drink.
45. If I'm in love with a song, I could listen to it 50 times in a row...and still want to hear it tomorrow.
To be continued...
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Reactions/Notes/Why?
Angry Black White Boy.
"Oh, what's that about?" "It's the story of a boy, Macon, who goes to Columbia, gets a job driving a taxicab around NY, and robs his passengers."
"So, he's black...?"
End of story.
Seriously. No exaggerations. I can't quite think of what to say to that sort of thing. Macon's the boy trying to change our society, trying to build the bridge between two differing cultures. But why are they split in the first place? Melting pot, we are not...
Notes:::::
Novel Progress: Nonexistent.
Days until school starts again: Not Enough.
Times I've checked my away message in the last 30 seconds: ~7
(A true addict...)
Times I put on moisturizer today: 3.
Today: Christmas Day, The First day of Hannukah.
Times I got thanked to play in church today: 5.
Times I've been visibly bitten in the past week: 3.
Number of times my cell phone rang today: Once.
Minutes I've spent looking at my frozen ipod: at least 40. (Anyone know how to restart?)
Glasses of some sort of alcoholic beverage today: 4. (Two hot, Two iced).
This Christmas.
"Last Christmas I gave you my heart..."
I remember sewing buttons on your pants last christmas because they had popped off. That sticker you put on your nose from the blue GAP polo that I gave you with the inspector number, I still remember just how it looked and how you were laughing. I remember drinking Mom's famous hot rum cider mixture and sitting with my family by our christmas tree. You and I were up later than everyone else. The late night tree and the flickers of sparks from the still new relationship. That awful hat that I hated. The grey one you always wore for your late night study sessions or early in the morning when you would bike off to class.
This Christmas?
"Maybe this Christmas/will mean something more/maybe this year/love will appear/deeper than ever before"
Visions get into my head and I can't seem to get them out. The video clips are still playing. The written stories keep getting more elaborate in my head. The same clip keeps going on over and over. Over and over. The same christmas tree and the conversations going back and forth in my head. Why did looking at the alter in Faith Lutheran this morning make me think of what my marriage would be like? Why? This time, something's different. I've never thought of what my marriage would be like. Hell, I've prided myself for years on thinking that I'll never even get married. Why is it now that I can picture the whole thing happening?
"Oh, what's that about?" "It's the story of a boy, Macon, who goes to Columbia, gets a job driving a taxicab around NY, and robs his passengers."
"So, he's black...?"
End of story.
Seriously. No exaggerations. I can't quite think of what to say to that sort of thing. Macon's the boy trying to change our society, trying to build the bridge between two differing cultures. But why are they split in the first place? Melting pot, we are not...
Notes:::::
Novel Progress: Nonexistent.
Days until school starts again: Not Enough.
Times I've checked my away message in the last 30 seconds: ~7
(A true addict...)
Times I put on moisturizer today: 3.
Today: Christmas Day, The First day of Hannukah.
Times I got thanked to play in church today: 5.
Times I've been visibly bitten in the past week: 3.
Number of times my cell phone rang today: Once.
Minutes I've spent looking at my frozen ipod: at least 40. (Anyone know how to restart?)
Glasses of some sort of alcoholic beverage today: 4. (Two hot, Two iced).
This Christmas.
"Last Christmas I gave you my heart..."
I remember sewing buttons on your pants last christmas because they had popped off. That sticker you put on your nose from the blue GAP polo that I gave you with the inspector number, I still remember just how it looked and how you were laughing. I remember drinking Mom's famous hot rum cider mixture and sitting with my family by our christmas tree. You and I were up later than everyone else. The late night tree and the flickers of sparks from the still new relationship. That awful hat that I hated. The grey one you always wore for your late night study sessions or early in the morning when you would bike off to class.
This Christmas?
"Maybe this Christmas/will mean something more/maybe this year/love will appear/deeper than ever before"
Visions get into my head and I can't seem to get them out. The video clips are still playing. The written stories keep getting more elaborate in my head. The same clip keeps going on over and over. Over and over. The same christmas tree and the conversations going back and forth in my head. Why did looking at the alter in Faith Lutheran this morning make me think of what my marriage would be like? Why? This time, something's different. I've never thought of what my marriage would be like. Hell, I've prided myself for years on thinking that I'll never even get married. Why is it now that I can picture the whole thing happening?
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Em--Tribute to the Fans
"Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength."
Thank you. That means more to me than you'd think.
"WOW...your blog is amazing! you are a beautiful writer and i admire your...personality(for lack of a better word, that i cant find right now)" -----I love you, too.
If it wasn't for you guys, I wouldn't be so composed right now. This Blog's been up for over a year now and I couldn't be happier about it. She's my pride and joy, to make a Stevie Ray Vaughan reference. I truly appreciate everyone's kind words and encouragement-That's what gets me through my day. I love you all and respect you for taking the time to check my postings on a regular basis. [Note: I feel like I'm writing an acceptance speech...Perhaps my Pulitzer someday?]
I love you all--You mean the world to me. Thank you.
-over and out!
Thank you. That means more to me than you'd think.
"WOW...your blog is amazing! you are a beautiful writer and i admire your...personality(for lack of a better word, that i cant find right now)" -----I love you, too.
If it wasn't for you guys, I wouldn't be so composed right now. This Blog's been up for over a year now and I couldn't be happier about it. She's my pride and joy, to make a Stevie Ray Vaughan reference. I truly appreciate everyone's kind words and encouragement-That's what gets me through my day. I love you all and respect you for taking the time to check my postings on a regular basis. [Note: I feel like I'm writing an acceptance speech...Perhaps my Pulitzer someday?]
I love you all--You mean the world to me. Thank you.
-over and out!
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Black Eyes
This is all leading me right back in circles
Circling back to the center
The center of the picture, The one that once held...
The dark circles under the eyes
Results from weeks of sleepless nights
Nights I'd be up thinking of...
The streaks run down
Into a pool which forms just at the base
Just anytime I glance at...
This drama, This writing
This story.
All has to end.
Circling back to the center
The center of the picture, The one that once held...
The dark circles under the eyes
Results from weeks of sleepless nights
Nights I'd be up thinking of...
The streaks run down
Into a pool which forms just at the base
Just anytime I glance at...
This drama, This writing
This story.
All has to end.
Anyone for a game of Hearts?
I know you said my heart belongs to someone I've yet to meet, but it was yours for the taking...
Friday, December 16, 2005
In my own little corner
So, I'm going to be a little hermit crab over christmas vacation. vacation? Ok, so it's not really a vacation because I won't be lounging around my house in pjs and hats, but I'll be at the gap and back and forth madison and janesville.
Why am I going to be a little hermit crab? Because I don't plan on going out that much. I plan on sitting at my apartment, writing my little heart out.
I'm looking forward to some much needed time to myself to figure out some stuff and contemplate how I'm really not that young, how I'm much older than many of the older people I know, and how this life is already so far from being teenaged. Had lunch with a friend today. A much older friend than I am and one of my oldest for that matter. Yet, it never seems uncomfortable to sit and talk with him about his married friends or what he's thinking in life or how he's realized that he's not "old enough" yet to grow up. In some respects, it pains me to say that I'm more grown up than most of my friends and in other ways, it feels immaculate.
Until exams are over, this might be the latest blog for awhile.
All I want for Christmas? Healing.
Why am I going to be a little hermit crab? Because I don't plan on going out that much. I plan on sitting at my apartment, writing my little heart out.
I'm looking forward to some much needed time to myself to figure out some stuff and contemplate how I'm really not that young, how I'm much older than many of the older people I know, and how this life is already so far from being teenaged. Had lunch with a friend today. A much older friend than I am and one of my oldest for that matter. Yet, it never seems uncomfortable to sit and talk with him about his married friends or what he's thinking in life or how he's realized that he's not "old enough" yet to grow up. In some respects, it pains me to say that I'm more grown up than most of my friends and in other ways, it feels immaculate.
Until exams are over, this might be the latest blog for awhile.
All I want for Christmas? Healing.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Life, Actually.
Right now, I quite understand why women wear heavy black eye makeup. You can't tell that my eyes are puffed up like rising bread, or the fact that they are a gorgeous shade of pink rose. It also doesn't look like I'm that tired. Lovely little facade we have going on, isn't it?
Ahh...morning. I need to read, so this will be short.
Just a few days prior, my best friend and I were discussing my situation, and she said something like, "I really admire how well you're taking all of this. I've been meaning to tell you that for some time now. If it was any of our other friends, I can't imagine they'd be doing as well." That meant more than the world to me.
My friends are the most important people in my life, and right now, it seems like the only ones i can really count on. I always think I need a support system when I get upset or angry, and the awful fact of the matter is, yes, I do. I need to know that they are always going to be there for me, through thick and thin. THEY are the constancy my life needs. No matter how bad things get, they don't run away when it gets hard, they stick through it all right with me.
I'm actually theirs.
Ahh...morning. I need to read, so this will be short.
Just a few days prior, my best friend and I were discussing my situation, and she said something like, "I really admire how well you're taking all of this. I've been meaning to tell you that for some time now. If it was any of our other friends, I can't imagine they'd be doing as well." That meant more than the world to me.
My friends are the most important people in my life, and right now, it seems like the only ones i can really count on. I always think I need a support system when I get upset or angry, and the awful fact of the matter is, yes, I do. I need to know that they are always going to be there for me, through thick and thin. THEY are the constancy my life needs. No matter how bad things get, they don't run away when it gets hard, they stick through it all right with me.
I'm actually theirs.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Can we settle down please?
So many words in that sentence have me thinking. Can--how is it possible that we know anything? scepticism...
We? Collective, but it can also be exclusive. It's collective in the sense that it's between only a certain amount of people and between those people only, so it's like a family. But, at the same time, it excludes others. Settle? enough said. (ahh, Lo, the conversations we have!) Please? It's proper to use your manners. Yes, I agree. But what really is proper? Please? Must we always ask or is it that nowadays these things are merely implied? Our society has come so far from traditions. Conventionality.
Conventions. My life is full of none. I shouldn't have to work two jobs. (Though, I still feel the need to...) I shouldn't have to share a room at my age. I shouldn't have to pay a ridiculous amount for rented parking. I probably shouldn't be able to do my homework--or write on my blog as I am right now--at work. This life filled with disease shouldn't be happening to me. I shouldn't have carpal tunnel. Of all things, a writer should never be plagued by these things.
A writer. I so often call myself this, but what makes me a writer? I mean really. I write. Yes, but many people write. I used to consider myself a musician. And still do...does that mean my identity has changed because I now attribute myself as more of a writer than as a musician. That was supposed to be my life. Spent in a small cubicle of a practice room, preparing for shows, auditions, teaching. I planned on Music Education and sometimes, yes, sometimes, that still bothers me. But the fact of the matter is, that in finding out that that wasn't the path I should have gone with, I found something I should have attributed to my life a long time ago. I've been writing down my poetry since I was still in Middle School. And, yet, I've never thought myself much of a poet. Realistically at least.
I was always the music kid. Voted Next American Idol in high school. 2nd Place for Most Musical in High School. That's how I'll be remembered. And yet, I wasn't the one listed as the "Next novelist" or "Most likely to win a Pulitzer." It's strange to find something "new" that I can attribute with myself that isn't what I thought it would be at all.
But, what in life is actually something that I've planned out. I plan on getting married, I plan on writing, I plan on being successful. I want a family. I want my dreams--I want them all within reach. I plan on writing for me. Not for the Creative Writing program here, which I've opted to shy away from. I don't want to write for them, I want to write for me. I want to read good literature and have thoughts about that and incorporate it in my own work like those before me. I want to have the time for me. The time I cherish to do my work. I want the time to sit here and whittle away at my computer to collect my thoughts and tell my stories.
I want creativity.
We? Collective, but it can also be exclusive. It's collective in the sense that it's between only a certain amount of people and between those people only, so it's like a family. But, at the same time, it excludes others. Settle? enough said. (ahh, Lo, the conversations we have!) Please? It's proper to use your manners. Yes, I agree. But what really is proper? Please? Must we always ask or is it that nowadays these things are merely implied? Our society has come so far from traditions. Conventionality.
Conventions. My life is full of none. I shouldn't have to work two jobs. (Though, I still feel the need to...) I shouldn't have to share a room at my age. I shouldn't have to pay a ridiculous amount for rented parking. I probably shouldn't be able to do my homework--or write on my blog as I am right now--at work. This life filled with disease shouldn't be happening to me. I shouldn't have carpal tunnel. Of all things, a writer should never be plagued by these things.
A writer. I so often call myself this, but what makes me a writer? I mean really. I write. Yes, but many people write. I used to consider myself a musician. And still do...does that mean my identity has changed because I now attribute myself as more of a writer than as a musician. That was supposed to be my life. Spent in a small cubicle of a practice room, preparing for shows, auditions, teaching. I planned on Music Education and sometimes, yes, sometimes, that still bothers me. But the fact of the matter is, that in finding out that that wasn't the path I should have gone with, I found something I should have attributed to my life a long time ago. I've been writing down my poetry since I was still in Middle School. And, yet, I've never thought myself much of a poet. Realistically at least.
I was always the music kid. Voted Next American Idol in high school. 2nd Place for Most Musical in High School. That's how I'll be remembered. And yet, I wasn't the one listed as the "Next novelist" or "Most likely to win a Pulitzer." It's strange to find something "new" that I can attribute with myself that isn't what I thought it would be at all.
But, what in life is actually something that I've planned out. I plan on getting married, I plan on writing, I plan on being successful. I want a family. I want my dreams--I want them all within reach. I plan on writing for me. Not for the Creative Writing program here, which I've opted to shy away from. I don't want to write for them, I want to write for me. I want to read good literature and have thoughts about that and incorporate it in my own work like those before me. I want to have the time for me. The time I cherish to do my work. I want the time to sit here and whittle away at my computer to collect my thoughts and tell my stories.
I want creativity.
Friday, December 09, 2005
Remains of the Day
Quotes from the newest English excursion that got me thinking:
"Whenever I believed I had come up with something, I probed it for every sort of oversight, tested it through from all angles." (on my crazed mind...or not so crazed really.)
"Maybe you could keep her off our hands, Stevens. Maybe you could teake her out to one of those stables around Mr. Morgan's farm. Keep her entertained in all that hay. She may be just your type." (on a fabulous sexual pun by Mr. Farraday.) ;-)
"We were all essentially cut from the same cloth, so to speak." (on philosophy of life.)
"I knew I had gone beyond all previous boundaries." (on the unexpected...)
"...unease mixed with exhilaration" (a perfect description of the unknown, but excitement in getting there.)
"It was only the feeling of a moment, but it caused me to slow down. And even when I had assured myself I was on the right road, I felt compelled to stop the car a moment to take stock, as it were." (on the here and now...)
"To see the best before I have properly begun would be somewhat premature." (FABULOUS words from Stevens. -on development of...well, whatever I'd like to interpret just those lines as :-) I can't have the ending before I've properly gone through all of the right steps in order to do so. Oh Stevens, I just might learn a little bit of life from your British ways of thinking...)
"Whenever I believed I had come up with something, I probed it for every sort of oversight, tested it through from all angles." (on my crazed mind...or not so crazed really.)
"Maybe you could keep her off our hands, Stevens. Maybe you could teake her out to one of those stables around Mr. Morgan's farm. Keep her entertained in all that hay. She may be just your type." (on a fabulous sexual pun by Mr. Farraday.) ;-)
"We were all essentially cut from the same cloth, so to speak." (on philosophy of life.)
"I knew I had gone beyond all previous boundaries." (on the unexpected...)
"...unease mixed with exhilaration" (a perfect description of the unknown, but excitement in getting there.)
"It was only the feeling of a moment, but it caused me to slow down. And even when I had assured myself I was on the right road, I felt compelled to stop the car a moment to take stock, as it were." (on the here and now...)
"To see the best before I have properly begun would be somewhat premature." (FABULOUS words from Stevens. -on development of...well, whatever I'd like to interpret just those lines as :-) I can't have the ending before I've properly gone through all of the right steps in order to do so. Oh Stevens, I just might learn a little bit of life from your British ways of thinking...)
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
[INSERT MAIN THOUGHTS HERE] p.s. I have none...
Where are we? Spin me round again...
Ugh...again. Anything to be at that point where I was.
It's one of those nights where I could stare into space for hours and what would happen? Absolutely nothing. And the drop of a pin could make me break into a million pieces. I'm not sure I can explain all of the emotions floating around, swimming between thoughts in my head right now. I'm just at an utter loss for explaination. That never seems to happen. I have a theory for everything. Yet, there are certain things that I can't ever grasp into my head...nothing's constant, everything is always changing. The constant--everything can change in just one of those little instances. One moment I'm looking at you and thinking, "God, how can I possibly not feel this way?" and the next I'm pulling myself away. All I want is that closeness...yet, it seems so out of reach. It's right there, but I can't touch it. Yet, I don't feel that way at all. I'm having all of these mixed thoughts and they are just swimming around, keeping me from sleeping. I'm so fucking tired. I was up too early and stayed up too late. I'm still thinking and I know a cold splash of reality won't help anything. As much as I love having everything planned out, this is the one thing that I can't plan. I can't set a date for it in my planner or make my usual "list of things to do" because that doesn't quite fit on it. Long term goals stay the same. Write. I can't stop listening to this song. The lyrics...I don't even care about the lyrics. There are only sounds. The sounds that get into my skin and you can feel the emotion that the artist is feeling. I can feel myself lifting my hands at the breaths in the music, like a lift of a bow or the lift of a pianist's hands for stylistic feeling. Funny, this never happens on my laptop...
Dream, just keep on dreaming...
Your book will pull the reader in. Make the audience understand what it's like to overcome this....
Maybe I should work on coming to terms with it first? It's looking me straight in the eye and I can't look at it back. Tears. Oh, here come the tears. I can't imagine life any other way. These pictures in my head aren't good. They go against all of my theories of being alone for the rest of my life.... I want my fantasy.
This is what after midnight will do to you when you've been up circling around things in your head for too long. This whole thing I'm sure will sound so disconnected. God, I need a drink to help me fall asleep....where's my flask?!
Ugh...again. Anything to be at that point where I was.
It's one of those nights where I could stare into space for hours and what would happen? Absolutely nothing. And the drop of a pin could make me break into a million pieces. I'm not sure I can explain all of the emotions floating around, swimming between thoughts in my head right now. I'm just at an utter loss for explaination. That never seems to happen. I have a theory for everything. Yet, there are certain things that I can't ever grasp into my head...nothing's constant, everything is always changing. The constant--everything can change in just one of those little instances. One moment I'm looking at you and thinking, "God, how can I possibly not feel this way?" and the next I'm pulling myself away. All I want is that closeness...yet, it seems so out of reach. It's right there, but I can't touch it. Yet, I don't feel that way at all. I'm having all of these mixed thoughts and they are just swimming around, keeping me from sleeping. I'm so fucking tired. I was up too early and stayed up too late. I'm still thinking and I know a cold splash of reality won't help anything. As much as I love having everything planned out, this is the one thing that I can't plan. I can't set a date for it in my planner or make my usual "list of things to do" because that doesn't quite fit on it. Long term goals stay the same. Write. I can't stop listening to this song. The lyrics...I don't even care about the lyrics. There are only sounds. The sounds that get into my skin and you can feel the emotion that the artist is feeling. I can feel myself lifting my hands at the breaths in the music, like a lift of a bow or the lift of a pianist's hands for stylistic feeling. Funny, this never happens on my laptop...
Dream, just keep on dreaming...
Your book will pull the reader in. Make the audience understand what it's like to overcome this....
Maybe I should work on coming to terms with it first? It's looking me straight in the eye and I can't look at it back. Tears. Oh, here come the tears. I can't imagine life any other way. These pictures in my head aren't good. They go against all of my theories of being alone for the rest of my life.... I want my fantasy.
This is what after midnight will do to you when you've been up circling around things in your head for too long. This whole thing I'm sure will sound so disconnected. God, I need a drink to help me fall asleep....where's my flask?!
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