(no subject)
Is it too late to ask where everyone went?
Or am I running in the opposite direction?
Many things can happen in two weeks.
The show closed with less emotion than last year, but still with a tear in the eye.
I resolve to stop taking cabs and start walking people home.
My personality isn't changing but I can feel myself shifting away from who I really am. I drink too much, I stay up too late. I don't do my homework, I laugh when my marks fall. I take nothing seriously but take it all to heart. I hurt people and justify it.
Control is a foreign word. My voice sounds different when I sing now. I am getting too old for my head. The things that I say don't sound like me and I don't know how to fix that, but I'm trying everything I can.
Last week was strange. Daniel's brother passed away and Robyn and I walked down to the funeral. It was a nice service, Katie sang. At the very end, Daniel played a bass solo and the church was overwhelmed. I looked over at Paula and she was shaking. I couldn't do it, I didn't want to escape though. I felt like we should go through the pain to take a little bit off the shoulders of his family. No one knew what to say...or what to do, how to justify their being at the funeral. We were friends of Daniel's, we came to show our love and support, I think. That's what was going through my head. When we saw him at the reception afterwards, I wanted to take him away from all of it and put him down somewhere else where he would be ok.
Daniel just stood, stationary, in the middle of the Parish Hall...crying, wearing a new suit. People would come up to him and touch him, talk to him, pat him on the back, and leave. They just talked at him and I didn't want to talk at him, I just wanted to take him away and make him happy. Robyn didn't let go of him forever. I looked at my watch and we agreed that we had to go back to English. When we stepped back outside into the sun, both of us just started to cry. There were boys on the lawn of the church playing soccer and watching people leave a funeral. We walked up Robie crying, just being sad for once. Not stressed, not hurt. Just sad.
People cry when they're sad, so I've been told.
The day turned 180 degrees at seven o'clock. I met Tommy somewhere on Quinpool Road and we walked down into the South End, and down by the old Independent School and the sunset was beautiful. We walked down Oakland Road and talked...and walked down to the very end by the arm and out onto the public dock that no one knows about...and fireworks went off 100 metres away from us. I couldn't believe it. I live in a movie.
I've been asking people how they feel lately instead of asking them what's up. I am waiting for an epiphany right now and I'm long overdue. I want to go walk on the railroad tracks or go to the beach or dance with someone. I dream of not paying my cellphone bill and another dinner party that's not awkward. I'm trying to get back into myself, I really am, I promise. I'm listening to Billie Holiday and Blossom Dearie and Bob Dylan...I'm going outside.
Or am I running in the opposite direction?
Many things can happen in two weeks.
The show closed with less emotion than last year, but still with a tear in the eye.
I resolve to stop taking cabs and start walking people home.
My personality isn't changing but I can feel myself shifting away from who I really am. I drink too much, I stay up too late. I don't do my homework, I laugh when my marks fall. I take nothing seriously but take it all to heart. I hurt people and justify it.
Control is a foreign word. My voice sounds different when I sing now. I am getting too old for my head. The things that I say don't sound like me and I don't know how to fix that, but I'm trying everything I can.
Last week was strange. Daniel's brother passed away and Robyn and I walked down to the funeral. It was a nice service, Katie sang. At the very end, Daniel played a bass solo and the church was overwhelmed. I looked over at Paula and she was shaking. I couldn't do it, I didn't want to escape though. I felt like we should go through the pain to take a little bit off the shoulders of his family. No one knew what to say...or what to do, how to justify their being at the funeral. We were friends of Daniel's, we came to show our love and support, I think. That's what was going through my head. When we saw him at the reception afterwards, I wanted to take him away from all of it and put him down somewhere else where he would be ok.
Daniel just stood, stationary, in the middle of the Parish Hall...crying, wearing a new suit. People would come up to him and touch him, talk to him, pat him on the back, and leave. They just talked at him and I didn't want to talk at him, I just wanted to take him away and make him happy. Robyn didn't let go of him forever. I looked at my watch and we agreed that we had to go back to English. When we stepped back outside into the sun, both of us just started to cry. There were boys on the lawn of the church playing soccer and watching people leave a funeral. We walked up Robie crying, just being sad for once. Not stressed, not hurt. Just sad.
People cry when they're sad, so I've been told.
The day turned 180 degrees at seven o'clock. I met Tommy somewhere on Quinpool Road and we walked down into the South End, and down by the old Independent School and the sunset was beautiful. We walked down Oakland Road and talked...and walked down to the very end by the arm and out onto the public dock that no one knows about...and fireworks went off 100 metres away from us. I couldn't believe it. I live in a movie.
I've been asking people how they feel lately instead of asking them what's up. I am waiting for an epiphany right now and I'm long overdue. I want to go walk on the railroad tracks or go to the beach or dance with someone. I dream of not paying my cellphone bill and another dinner party that's not awkward. I'm trying to get back into myself, I really am, I promise. I'm listening to Billie Holiday and Blossom Dearie and Bob Dylan...I'm going outside.