runningoutofthingstobelieveinrunning out of money&time
things are bothering me. little things, like the letter "e". the sound of mouths chewing. noise in general. i notice that it is noise, then it attacks me, slowly at first, then all at once it comes rushingrushingcrushing my senses and ear drums and faith in human kind. this seeming suspension of everything that matters bothers me. the freckles on your face. the teasing smile. all the dancing, spinning in circles, the warmth&the strength of his arms. but after all, we are here to dance. it bothers me that you flirt and i flirt (with everyone, both ways) and it never means anything but a reason to smile for ten seconds before the black space comes back and steals my eyes. all seriousness is lost, and i feel it the most because i know only how to be serious. i wish i could successfully master the art of apathy (thus effectively blending in with the masses; conformity oh joy), but all i can do is pretend.
i tap danced on the stars last night, borrowing your top hat and coattails. picked up that lone string-instrument again, for old times' sake. the discordant tunes that i didnt play resonate through the air this morning, as water droplets break the solitude in favor of entropy.
this sky is beautiful
this pear is juicy
the last four pages stare blankly back at me. huge. white with blue lines. i want to deface them with green ink and red blood.