(no subject)
I hate quoting songs to explain the way that I feel. it always seems like the easy way out, like I'm stealing someone else's words because I'm too lazy or stupid to come up with my own, but...
but....
I feel so out of context, damn it.
this is the song I listened to on my way home from meeting Michael to break up with him, on my way home from borders with a strawberry smoothie that tasted oddly bitter on my tongue, shivering in Earl because the heat never worked quite right. I couldn't make myself cry that day, couldn't even summon any emotion other than some vague satisfaction that at least that was over with. I was already moving on, had already forgotten him in favor of another. I pitied him because I had never seen a man look so upset, so destroyed, by the simeple words "we have nothing in common." he bought me roses though, and I loved him for that....no one before or since has ever done that.
why have they all had blue eyes? why have they all smelled so similar?
old spice and sweat, curling up with one was oddly similar to curling up with all the others.
and now I wear old spice because, well, I'm near ovens all day and it takes something that strong to keep me from smelling like a greasy foreign man, and I smell it all over me and can't help looking around for them. odd how receptive I am to smells like that, strange how well I remember each one.
I feel like running head first into traffic
because my heart wasn't made for this
(but these days, not even I know what I'm talking about)
there was a point I was trying to make, but I can't remember what it was. probably something about life being too cyclical, too similar no matter where you go. I can't escape from the blue-eyed men, but then, I suppose there are worse fates.
(I would kill for a pair of green eyes
or a man who smelled of vitalis and barbasol)
I am scared. the truth is, I am scared. I'm scared to live, but too chickenshit not to.
I thought that I wanted this. I thought that I wanted more attention, a storied ending, but not even I can stand this pain.
today has been trying to talk people out of loving me, trying to make them see that I'm not really worth their time.
but....
I feel so out of context, damn it.
this is the song I listened to on my way home from meeting Michael to break up with him, on my way home from borders with a strawberry smoothie that tasted oddly bitter on my tongue, shivering in Earl because the heat never worked quite right. I couldn't make myself cry that day, couldn't even summon any emotion other than some vague satisfaction that at least that was over with. I was already moving on, had already forgotten him in favor of another. I pitied him because I had never seen a man look so upset, so destroyed, by the simeple words "we have nothing in common." he bought me roses though, and I loved him for that....no one before or since has ever done that.
why have they all had blue eyes? why have they all smelled so similar?
old spice and sweat, curling up with one was oddly similar to curling up with all the others.
and now I wear old spice because, well, I'm near ovens all day and it takes something that strong to keep me from smelling like a greasy foreign man, and I smell it all over me and can't help looking around for them. odd how receptive I am to smells like that, strange how well I remember each one.
I feel like running head first into traffic
because my heart wasn't made for this
(but these days, not even I know what I'm talking about)
there was a point I was trying to make, but I can't remember what it was. probably something about life being too cyclical, too similar no matter where you go. I can't escape from the blue-eyed men, but then, I suppose there are worse fates.
(I would kill for a pair of green eyes
or a man who smelled of vitalis and barbasol)
I am scared. the truth is, I am scared. I'm scared to live, but too chickenshit not to.
I thought that I wanted this. I thought that I wanted more attention, a storied ending, but not even I can stand this pain.
today has been trying to talk people out of loving me, trying to make them see that I'm not really worth their time.