loudnoise.
this is more than a few months old. wrote it awhile ago.
The tv is blaring. I can’t ever hear. This is normal volume. To me. Comfortable volume to my ears. Even though i know its loud. Its the volume that i can understand what people are saying without straining. I try not to listen to it this loud when my roommates are home. I’m used to not understanding the whole part of what someone is saying. The tv at normal volume is like that. I get the just.
The tv is blaring. I feel like I’m floating. Floating through the day. I turned the tv down. The steady clicking of the keys as i type is hypnotic in the way playing the piano makes me daydream.
Its 12:47. I’m worried about getting attached. To this idea of what you are. What you could be. I’m worried I’m making you bigger in my head. I didn’t want this to happen. I am so many layers right now. So layered and complicated. Actually i guess I’m just really simple. It’s quite simple. I don’t want to care and i do. And thats what it boils down to. So how do i undo that....everyday it gets worse.
I’m so tired. But i don’t feel like i could sleep. I thought hard today about who i could call here if i had a real crisis in my life. If i really needed help. If i needed to tell someone something or needed something serious. I couldn’t think of anyone. No one. In this entire city. I weighed pros and cons and came to the conclusion that i would probably just go to greg or Jackie. Because i live with them...and even though we’re pseudo distanced from each other, i guess we’re a weird sort of household family. And i can trust them. Even if we don’t hang out all the time and whatever. I can trust them. Thats important. And i don’t feel judged by either one of them. But sometimes, just sometimes....i wish i had someone that would pop into my head right away for these things. Oh Philadelphia....how i distance myself from you so much. I don’t even find a best friend.
Its 12:57. The tv is soft, the airconditioning is loud, and I’m feeling lonely. And far away from too many things. My head is in outer space right now and my body is wishing for home. I miss the smell of summer air on cotton sheets. I miss driving late at night with the windows down when everything’s quiet. I want to ride my bike to white hen with my sister. I miss that idea of home. That forever sense of comfort that’s now lost somewhere.
I’m a wanderer. And I’m fucking sick of it.
Its 1:04. And I’m wondering where you are and who you are with. And then i wonder why i even care. Wtf am i doing.
Its 1:06. I just got tired.
Goodnight moon.