"i can be your James Dean, and you can be my beauty queen..."
There's something about Jersey that makes me feel like james dean. when i settle into her arms i am a legend, loved by many, hated by more, but im what everyone else wants to be. there's something about sitting outside of the bars after hours basking in the serenades of cars passing, distant voices, and a trail of music from inside the apartments above. id already come to the conclusion that i would be sleeping under the roof of one of these apartments. somewhere in the night walked my beauty queen, the girl all girls loved to hate but would die to be. just because she was with me, james dean. i drove the streets without any set plan other than "to love and to be loved". i hate driving buried under the influence because the street lights burn into your retinas blinding you for a good 3 seconds every pass, and you concentrate so hard to make sure of little things such as, your speed, your surroundings and cops. i reached the corner of 413 pasington st. where the only building that seemed to still have life in it was. and i found her. she pretended to care as i always do, and gave me my bed for the night, as well as her heart...for the night. which i took and ran with only hours later. innocent? possibly she was, but then again, in my state of mind, even last nights girl was innocent. so much for the dreams of the country girl i would love to death, and share with, the loss of innocence . im an insomniac i thought to myself while smoking under the street lights. the smoke floated into portraits of love that i could never paint. "jersey you hold me back" i whispered, "and i love you for that and ill see you again soon".