Friday, December 28, 2007


the loch ness monster
the abominable snowman
panic at the disco ever releasing a new album
davey jones locker

Monday, December 24, 2007

i'm losing (my w)it.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

the fine (very fine) art of making it out alive.

I guess i'll just skate on. the wheels aren't rusty, and no need to replace the wearer. my feet are stitched in too tight anyways.

I want to hibernate for the next few weeks. maybe I'll listen to my own ideas eventually and do just that.

"This is bigger than me.
But with no hands and even less skill,
I don't know how it ever will come out."

does anyone know if the pittsburgh zoo is open in the winter? I want to see the polar bears.

Saturday, December 15, 2007


i just. i just. don't know.
it feels like i'm living in a third person perspective.
i cant. i just can't feel anymore.
i mean, everything physical, everything is supposed to be okay.
it just. isn't.
like i'm living in the back of my mind, the part that feels so strange when you even think about thinking in that way. that's what i'm living in. the back room of your thoughts and the background music, that's me.
i mean, i can think, i can breathe, i can sleep, i can exist,
it's just that i have no heart in it, nothing seems to effect me in any way.
it does but it's just so masked.
it does but it's just so held back.
the tears form in my eyes, still, yeah, but they never fall now. they're stuck.

Monday, December 10, 2007

this is how i spend my time now.

someone please save me.
other than this, i:
try and get in contact with my friends to no avail
read heychris' journal
listen to the shins
and watch spongebob after school.
my life is so strange.

Sunday, December 2, 2007


is how i feel.

my cousin heather has a brain tumor. terminal case. she is 23.

we saw the same thing but it meant two different things to each of us.
juxtaposition of morals or something like that. big pretentious words don't get you anywhere, you know.
now comes the line where i talk about something actually going in my own life. it's become too predictable to my own brain. the format is fitting. insane.
people are not how they are in your mind. keep that safe in your chest. they are not the face on the baseball card or the hand that wrote those words or that swagger that carries them safely across the board they've laid out. they are not what they say or what they do, they are what they are, and even when you think you've got that, it's in your head so it's wrong, wrong, wrong. let someone explain themselves. but even they've got it wrong. everyone's got everyone in the wrong way, no one's perception is crystal clear. not a single soul. sometimes you get half the image, sometimes the inside or outside turns out focused. but the dark side of the moon is still a mystery no matter how many guesses we make about it.
what we express is a guess. a shot at what could be brewing in that opaque pot. lid glued shut, no one'll ever understand what made it boil over. art is just thoughts put into a brush, a pen, a pick. heart sneaks in when the thoughts stop making sense, need something to fill in the grey areas.

forget the rest of the world. they don't know what they're talking about. no one does. you can explore the depths of a subject, dive into it, immerse yourself in its mass, take up the cross it provides you with. hell, you can understand a thing to its frayed edges on the end of the universe, spend your eighty years of life boring eyes into its heart, but once that happens, god, you've become it. and it's so hard to explain yourself. you can't talk about it. you've done yourself into this dedication, losing sight of what you most wanted to do in the process. lost causes all around, kid, i'm paying for the pessimism.

"is this too simple of a subject for a metaphor?"
fucking lord, kid, it's far too complex for anyone to understand it. the author included.
the lines in the songs are only put there to make you sing along and feel like you belong.
everything else is an accident.

i realized there was something messed in my head when i stopped understanding why people who weren't famous mattered at all.
that shook ground.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio.

I want to eat this shitty food you write about. i will make my own judgement.

the academy is tonight. feeling more morose than happy, though. my head got all mixed up last night with control. can't think straight anymore-- she's lost control is playing in my brain on infinite repeat.
stomachache kinda feeling. seeing ex best friends for the first time. hope my fist won't fly anywhere. placidly hanging at my side, the clenching will be the thing to give me bruises if anything.
if i am going to be perfectly honest, i do believe that i will be falling asleep tonight on the shoulder of someone i do not know; the crowd makes me drowsy, what else can i say.
looking forward to a future of no computers and books around every bend. music is not reduced to files, but orchestras on vinyl. i will be the one to fix this world if i can jsut compress, compress, compress these feelings. coal into a diamond and all.

i am tired. i have tried.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

do you need anybody?

i just need someone to love.

sometimes when i pop bubbles, smoke comes out.

"you say you wanna revolution? well, we all wanna change the world."

my mind's caught in this song so i'm just gonna leave you with notes from the phone.

everything you couldn't do this year.
it's all gonna be okay, kid. don't let yourself think in absolutions, it only brings you down. slept for 12 hours in some whacked out dreamland with red cats and halfway real helicopters. everyone has a flaw or seven and it's okay. it's perfectly fine. i'll watch all my friends rush to the scene, of philosophies, i don't agree.
not even the suicide hotline will pickup for me. i feel like ive been living in a cloud and i wont get out until i've defeated all the demons inside of me. but i am weak. and my head can't handle much right now. and i fear for the future, like everyone else. how many tylenols does it take to overdose? i want to know. i gotta get my head right again. dont know how. ive used up all the blueprints.

but i'll be okay, oh, god, i'll be fine. just keep talking.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

"skeptics and true believers"

"my old friends have been dropping like houseflies."
shit hit the fan. repeating scripts now. feel a little like i did it for the wrong reason but i freaked and went a little too far. but it's okay. i'll be okay.
almost here. don't really want to talk to anyone right now. don't know what to do.
i have no plans for halloween because i was turned down again by someone i thought would stay with traditions if nothing else.
i now realize i have no friends where i live, who actually like me.
kind of a shock when it hits you in an instant.
don't make me revert to my old ways, brain. i'll have to give up on you like you did to me.

ps i want my scarf back.

Monday, October 22, 2007

"that age where everything seems vaugely life or death."

looked at the sky today and it started to rain.
dreamt of that kid in the lunch room having the same likes as me and we kissed and it felt electric.
when i woke up it felt so real.
stayed under the sheets and pretended someone was under there with me. i mean someone was just not who i wanted it to be.

when you talk of dinosaurs and the future, puzzle-piece brains and vials of chemicals,
it just gets me so down, kid. i don't know how to tell you.
makes me feel more like a little speck than usual.

for all my spelling errors and whacked out thoughts i hope i do not scare you away.
i used to think i was a good writer but then i looked around and i was just like everyone else, with a few different words pushed in different spots.

you text me from the front seat because you know talking's not okay. i feel small around you. but not the kind that crushes your little insides with sorrow, the kind that tells you that you have a protector with open arms ready to catch you when you collapse. but it's not love, oh no, love would kill me. it's more of a hug-and-smile kind of thing, a catch-and-release friendship. thie fall isn't going to be the same, i can feel it, but i'm hoping at least the world will change again. i need it to or i don't think i'll have any more hope in my little head.

it turns out all my friends are already someone else's friends.

i don't have enough experience to be telling you. i just want to live here and think about the way things are and will be. that's really all.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

driving in a car through tennessee with earbuds taking me far far away from the back of this truck.

so nervous, bordering the lines of insanity. venom, shot under my skin. you can feel the poison slither and spread, thick and heavy in your blood. it consumes your brain, choking it with its fist of addiction until it squeals out a last submissive cry, and is lost. your veins shake then, mimicking your heart beat, only far less comforting and far less steady. knees buckle, hands quiver, and you are lost, so lost to this disease you've inflicted.

feeling a little bit lately like everyone who ever offered compliments on anything, just didn't know what better things were out there. a little stupid but so am i.
i can never measure up. it's all this chicken scratch that my brain spews out, it's ruining me. it's just. not. good. enough.

i want to crawl inside the things i dont know.

lately it's all for myself.

i'm crying at everything.
when the tv turns on it feels like everything is gonna be a-okay.
is it possible for something to mean nothing?
all i really want is a genuine smile at 7:10. something to ward the zombies from the morning walk away. i don't think i'll ever get it, there's always a grimace hiding somewhere in there.

"where the sewage of youth drowned the spark of my teens"

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

throwing up rainbows is harder than it sounds. (and more disgusting, i suppose)

"and if my conscience is a cricket then my heart is a wasp."

looking for company in lyrics, oh, i can't find any anymore. maybe i have to write my own.
i trace my lips with the nail on my pinky finger, the delicate skin ripples and creates mental sensations. i pretend it is you because i can't believe anything else anymore.
seperated mind from heart one day and found there was nothing left in the middle.
i don't think i can do this anymore. but if i drop it, what'll i do? oh, god, what'll i do?
no more notes from the phone unless i am in dire need of health. no more.
been down lately but getting back up on air balloons of company. gotta stay grounded but not like that.
talking about myself like it's going out of style. according to the magazines it is.
my stomach is too full to hold anything else tonight; that bullshit pie you've baked will have to wait until tommorrow.

"oh yeah im sorry for breaking your nose
and my heart
and that promise
and your dream"

re-addicted to the skies above; please, feed me no more of your lies, my love.
you are a dissapointment. i am too but a different kind.

no i am not talking about whatever you think i am. hate crimes rampage on in my mind against those rebelling thoughts that manage to get the hell out of dodge.
i dont understand but neither do you. so why was it written.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

bound to get caught.

cancer of the thoughts. you're always thinking about changing things. now you've got a headache from all the quiet noise,
haze. head pressed against the glass of the window, barely comfortable but isolated easily. observer with no plans. "this is not going to work out." did you plan on it?
just looking for my match. just looking. not buying.
"i can hardly stand living but i'm afraid to die."
when did it get like this.
I don't write much from the heart nowadays. severed the vein that runs through my body from brain to heart. they don't work like they used to.
dirty and down. eastcoast happiness can't really be called happiness.

this all looks wrong. i want to erase everything.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

you wish you had one.

excuse my naivette, but I don't get why everyone has to be fighting with each other. it seems like all the friends I've chosen in school just so happen to all be mortal enemies with each other. tremendous. I'm teetering on the edge of consumable loyalty, or being nice to whoever is nice to me. I don't get it, I don't get it, I don't get it.
the scabs have returned, get ready for a new wave.
I lagged behind, and you got ahead.

what else I'm trying to do with my life:
replicate the infamous fiveohfourplan hoodie with a small amount of success.
writing pages of absolute uselessness.
filling my locker up with pictures of drummers, jason schwartzman, and polaroids of the beach.
ignoring threats.
fanning in on tom conrad's photography skills.
failing gym class (it was expected, honestly)
lying upside down. missing the jungle gym days. wishing I'd kept them in my head longer.
dropping friends like flies.
saving up my pennies for something I know is coming.
trying not to give up on you.
&writing poetry on my arms. a verse from my wrist:

And the first rude sketch that the
World had seen
Was joy to his mighty heart
'Till the devil whispered behind the leaves,
"It's pretty, but is it art?"

Sunday, September 30, 2007

it's easy to be broken but it's harder to be fixed.

fucking up is like a pasttime by now. it scares me that I was all ready to run away last night. oh, pity the silly little spoiled girl with the heart of gold.
mending relationships with rotten thread; they're bound to break again.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

blogger #0102835979340621184

I boarded up all my mirrors today because I am sick of looking at myself.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

we swore this ship would never go down.

I've been mourning the losses of old friends too much lately.

"I don't even care what she did to me, I just miss her."

forever submissive. diseased brain, infected words.

in other news I got food poisoning from ice cream. how crazy is that.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

I am aware of myself; (passerby nerves, the common words)

I feel like I've been sweating out a lot of things lately. my brain is stuck on repeat-play on a song about nothing. Ive been more shaky this weekend than any of my worst days combined, and it's all for nothing. I've been saying I'll take a shower for the past five days. I'm so disgusting sometimes.
I wish this could be written. But I can't express right. skeleton nerves; the sad thing is that it's true most of the time.
still reeling from the attacks on my self. you don't know the dependency issues I have with your words.
I love it when I feel close to you. it makes me feel less like i'm on the pier at high tide. I know I'll be safe but the water rises enough to get my mind to overwork it.
stuck in fine gear. not like the art.
(make me feel less like one of a million, make me feel more like one in a million.)

"in mexico people wear hummingbird amulets around their necks to show they are searching for love. here people pretend that they aren't. searching."

your ninth inning conscience has gotten me giving up on you closer to the snack break than ever.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

west never gave me this bad feeling before I knew about the coast.

weirdest life vibes. nerves are finally settling after the bomb of the first day of school has been detonated. talking to different people about different things. but I still keep true to myself and wonder if they really like me or I'm conversed with out of neccessity.
oh well. listening to brand new a lot lately which has been advised as bad for my mental health. writing more notes on the phone than in my brain. not much to say otherwise.

more notes from the phone, as written while watching some skin deep modeling show. that has nothing to do with them though. my brain doesn't remember writing these. this is all backup ammonition.

"toothpick between my teeth. I am contemplating life. commercial breaks in reality, you are the forgotten movie trailer. limited edition. you look too young to be here. the hair flip strategy (mentality). undercover insults will lie underneath my words and between my teeth until the day I die. sometimes you get a little too overdramatic. promises like water. I do not hear your words and forget what i say. the preshow. Im only shooting from the hip now, i guess. whatever that means. I never bothered to ask. two mistakes in a group. you are the third worst; not the bottom two but less loved all the same. your tv lies. the scripts are flawed. compress it to an hour long (special!). i spend too much time looking in the mirror and I have paid for it with my life. eating disorder without the disorder. gossip on your tounge and you live through your mouth. you're always fighting something. your lips lie. brooklyn accents, brooklyn haircuts. death before betrayal, tattooed on your back. you're smearing your eyeliner now. there is nothing profound resting in these words. I swore I'd never share them. you live on the coast but you live like the midwest. you are out of place and everyone knows. sleep in a dream. close those eyes.

I fall in love with boys with curly hair in brooklyn vintage shops. I fall in love with boys with beards and glasses, intellectual facades. I fall in love with you walking down your street next to your bicycle. I miss you, even if you were all in my mind.
I fall in love with life when it bothers to fall in love with me.

I had a panic attack in first period today. it was surreal.

Friday, September 14, 2007

so pack up the bags to beat back the clock.

I miss you, I'm going back home to the west coast. I wish you put yourself in my suitcase.

I'm really having trouble with being who I am at the moment / as of late. I've been trying to find it in books and underground songs, but the wires don't connect right with anything. the blue goes with the red when I want it to go with the blue, but when the blue goes together, the red misconnects with a yellow. I've been counting calories lately and I feel a little stupid for that. I'm getting reassurance from my friends when they'll give it up, but they have lives and I understand. I've been having to put off my plans for a lot of people lately but I guess I'm okay with that. I can't concentrate on anything and I can see people's dissapointment in me. I called the 1800suicide hotline jsut so I could talk about my problems but I lied about them all. it didn't get a thing off my chest, only worked to build it up. I can't wait for november when I can feel safe. I'm just so confused with this whole life around me.

"Oh, man," said Dean to me as we stood in front of a bar, "Sal, we got to go and never stop till we get there."
"Where are we going, man."
"I don't know but we gotta go."

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

new addictions and old habits. everything is conscious in the light.

notes from the phone.

it is 5am and my head is swimming. a lot is happening in my brain and i can't figure out just what tobelive-- the dream seems so real and the real seems barely there. I want people to think of me and I don't truly care how. is there a disease in my brain or is it all in my head? I'm going to ask today, i swear i will.
it's this new thing where I feel like I've seen and done what I want to--i truly can't tell if i'm wrong or not. nothing profound is coming from this and i'm preaching from my deathbed anyways.
i am jealous of all your lives (i'm considering theft rather than observery.)i've regressed, i know, but maybe i'll feel better after it's all said and done (or i'll just be scrambling.)

in other news, I am going on antidepressants. call the media!

Sunday, September 2, 2007

"this is your life and it's ending one minute at a time"

I feel almost alive half of the time; the other half just feels like im faking it.

my life is changing in little pieces and little ways I barely notice until I wake up.
I am not in the mood. I never am. I try too hard, I know.
your profound brain's been read. fear the reviews.
stay true. stay young.

I am losing my wit and finding no cure.
everything's been copied and pasted and done before. I'm getting so sick of everything and everyone.
I know I've been distant. It's done for a reason.
I can't think anymore. I've lost my mind.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

I'm thinking too much to be safe.

there are crickets in my kitchen.
the tortured artist will never grow up.
the abused will never live free.
but I am comforted if only slightly when you talk.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Monday, August 13, 2007

she wants to know why she's given half her life to people she hates now.

there are so many selves to be, I'm just trying to find the one for me.

you can't be missed if you never go away. trying to make every action treasured by you and me. it'll take some practice.

by four thirty am I see lines etched on the keyboard that weren't there in the morning. my eyes are burning.

I need some of that god take me away action.
I'm afraid to die.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

no i'm not dead.

dyed my hair black again (back to black and all that).
cut my bangs and cleaning my room for the big switch-around.
iminently depressed after coming home from new york. could've expected that.
living in my clothes, going on 3 days now. everytime I shower, my hair changes color. the only reason I smell is to keep people away (it's intentional, I swear).

arrested development is my new favorite thing.

by the way. looking for someone to see the hush sound at the rex theatre with on the 20th (the pittsburgh area). contact me if you know of any takers. I'll probably buy the ticket but plan otherwise.

my clothes fit much more loosely on me these days.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

write on / off

"I wonder what you look like under your tee-shirt. I wonder what you sound like when you're not wearing words. I wonder what we have when we're not pretending."

some stuff from later days. I was surprised I wrote this.

the grit between the words is what's been haunting my mind, looking in the crowd for a familiar face or hand, the shivers down my spine meaning nothing. it's the thrumming guitars and the sparks in your hair, and the harmonies and the give me this feeling I can't identify (with).

sometimes I write words and I don't even know where they came from or what they mean. these crazy blurred words and these landmarking songs, and i'm sick of this style. i wonder if when you grow up you change. like really change. i wouldn't mind it right now. do you know how hard it is to fall asleep next to the ticking of a clock? it is a neurosis-activating action, a bomb that will never go off (grow up). I stop watches. but not in the hiro kind of way. in the way that you just end the day with a stillness that is not accustomed.oh, i'm just bullshitting scared you would to be seeing anything moving at this hour. how tiny you feel when you just look out your window. how the anticipation for tommorrow is really all that's keeping you going.

I feel like everyone I know is turning me on everyone I know.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

struggling to find the connecting words.

it's like the last part of something big. the magic moment.

there is a priest in our church who has secrets in his eyes.

I'm never okay with being me.

this is all supposed to read profound but I guess you never really got it. or atleast took it the wrong way.

I am looking forward to being healed in new york. the dirty elegance the city holds under layers of musty grime. like a medical leave to neverland. the mental healing all just comes in the travel package.

I want to kill my self image.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

doctor stories. related in some way to orphan stories I swear.

my parachute didn't open.

comfortable in melodrama. I've never loved sweaters and purple nailpolish more than I do at this moment. cupcakes are my comfort food, it's alright, you can be envious of my blatantly silly ego. relating everything back to the real world and I've decided to stop. revel in the mystery and say no to your instincts.

I don't take pictures without my glasses anymore, you can see the bags under my eyes more clearly. they look so squinty and sad.

Monday, July 23, 2007

"Usually I'm a good kisser." His voice lowered to a whisper. "But I wasn't ready."

pianos play in my mind.
I am forever getting that one first kiss with that one boy who "gets me, mom."
only never really.
been thinking of a lot of things I could tattoo to myself lately. everything just seems so true and refined. the kind of old loves that never die and all that.
been fucking afraid of my body lately. trying to sever that connection between mind and self, but goddamn, it's just so well hidden.
I'm sorry I let you down.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

the dangerous angels of the globe lamps.

things I wish I would have done and written. a list in the weirdest kind of way. (things I've been thinking):

it's gotten me to look at you different, you should be thankful.
I tell the most heartwrenching lies when I'm sad.

an open mind is an open door. there are thieves in this neighborhood.

the creepers have ruined everything but you have let them. "they don't try to do anything another has done."

"the meaning of its misunderstanding is so profound."

"who am I and what is the time we are upon?"

witch baby is in my head.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007 is pretty kickass.

the vampire hours are finally working for me again. posted at 5:12 am.

Monday, July 16, 2007

always underground.

after having just watched the movie "the flats" I feel as though it has taught me to not take things so seriously. the small town relaxation recreation. friends and family. living in a surreal world makes you unreal.
I remember what she said about me once. I'm sure she wouldn't say it today.
"she's the number one underdog. screw those black clouds and such."

I don't want to be famous.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

letter from an asshole.

yeah, well I'm fed up with you and this. you're wasting your time and I'm angry at you for it. Heartbreak will kill you if you let it, and fuck if you're not giving any effort to be alright. I can't deal with you and that's probably why I did it in the first place. It's not a lack of understanding, it's more of a meaningless bubble you put me in. Well you're done with me now it seems and I'm glad for it. Shoot me for being an asshole, but if that's what this is, I've always been one my whole life. I'm cracking my knuckles, getting ready to punch your lights out, but your indifference to even this only puts fuel in the fire. take some fucking medicine and feel better, just make an effort to get out of this, or I'm just going to give up on you. Stop dwelling in it because it's not the end of the world.
You will never know how mad you make me. Stop fucking with your own emotions and smother yourself with what you've been using on me. And go jump off those bridges I was warned so helpfully not to burn. "I said I loved you but I lied."

in other sorts of news. in and out of hotels and states in the last two weeks. my bed never felt so comfortable. shopping for a new identity in fashion magazines and movie theatres. I miss three years ago. And I am forever angry at you for changing.
nothing is better than red notebooks, hoodies and sheets. the fatal combination that makes up most of my life. (And I don't even care if I got most of these words from you).

for the record, your sadness has lost its meaning in translation to me. I am sick of all the adolescent relationships around me breaking at the seams.

Saturday, June 30, 2007

on end.

even at this age I still feel as though I am risking my life when I put my feet down from my chair while my mom is sweeping the floor. my nerves still flare and jump.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

God. I believe.

I bought my school backpack today. a little crazy I guess since it's june. But it's green and pretty.
I am doing pretty great when I hang out with you. and when I talk to him I am not. So this is my life.
The point of this. So. I am breaking up with my toxic friends. I am gaining very healthy ones. I am with God. I am seeing the importance in things.
This sounds a little weird because I feel a little weird with all this new input in my life, and it's all just a big blur. And I'm tired right now.
but my best friends are nick and nicole. And this gives me more comfort than you know.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

would you make it out before the water filled your lungs?

there are walls being built between us no superman could break through. I miss you in the kind of desparate way, where you have to let it go or it'll destroy you. I'm every battleship that's ever been sunken by a former lover. I'm every scowl you place on your face when the times get low. I'm the fucking brick you throw through my living room window in a flaming attempt to get some revenge. I don't want to be saved in this state where it's mostly eat drink sleep repeat. Call me a sissy and I'll tell you to fuck off. I may cry but I have dignity.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

unfamiliarity will be the death of me.

this feeling we're creating is getting big enough to live inside. thank god because that's all we've ever wanted.
underdogs always come through in the end, huh?
well i'm sick of being the underdog. make me important and loved.

"he sang i wish i weren't me just of the key of love until his voice went out."

"it's just this bad beat that I just can't keep."

i make a new journal every time I tell anyone of an existing one of mine. it's like some self-destructive tendency that keeps me going though.
saving pennies for the sidekick now.
all these naievettes are pathetic in their bubbles of sincerity. give me a break. no one'll care when you trip when you talk to that boy, no one'll give a fuck when you move away. you're all just talking to the wall. give it up 'cause you'll never get a real response. fake ones, sure, but sincerity is what you're looking for, right?
the black and white of the world got to me. that's all I can say. the thoughts of this and that infected me. that's as far as I'll go.
I've found the attraction in being social again. don't blame me. it's only as surprising as it'll ever be.
"the girls in the stalls, they laugh and they laugh, but they do not know, they're stuck in a trap."

I don't like music for the moment.

Friday, June 8, 2007

this is just a fond farewell to a friend.

these disco glasses look good on my friends but not on me. and it's the saddest thing in the world.
the flush of a face when your heart drops like the ball in times square is the most valuable thing i've ever seen.
it's crazy with these oreo cookies and kitchen nights up late in the ghost summer. because that's what I've decided it is. it's a ghost summer and we're all living it. you with your drugs and me with my nights. I've wanted to open my bedroom window for ages now.
come over, please. I'm just so upset with the way this all seems to have turned out. and I know you are too. so let's just find some solace on the couch with all that heat smoking in through the windows.
first-century people didn't figure this out and neither will I.
the security blanket I based my life on just so happens to be formed out of rotten threads.
get it right.