12:03am are you in the mood to be subdued? or would you rather just mingle?
i think that sometimes its just the way that things fall around me. &it's the craziest things, like the way you walk away, that make me remember. &make me think of those crazy walks i used to take at two in the morning. &those nights that i stared at the ceiling and thought of how thats what i need. &sometimes i have these crazycrazy dreams, but that's only fitting considering where i am.
&really it all comes down to the lack of motivation thats floating around in my head when i close my eyes. because how many different ways can i say that i'm lonely? i think i've just about reached my limit on that count.
it's how sometimes i feel like i'm looking at the world like tiny ants. through this glass that surrounds me as soon as my calendar flips over to the sportster. it's how i want to grab the stars and just scream. but i really want to find something more. and it's not something that exists in pretty words, or pretty pictures, or anything pretty at all. it's something that's hidden in those fleeting eyes and wringing hands. and it's inbetween lines and stanzas and measures and beats and anything tangible. it's the ducks in a row, and the halves of faces captured forever.
and it's really that picture i have. where it says "northgate. 1st ave NE" and there's this beautiful sunset in the distance. and to me, that picture is my life. its the highway i want to be on, and the sunset i want to see, and the streets i want to walk. and it's not that things here aren't good. or even great sometimes, but it's more that i feel like i'm waiting in line for things to really begin. i'm stuck in traffic on the on-ramp, and i'm the most impatient driver ever.
i'm a perfectionist of the worst sort, and only a few of you know this. and i've always been a perfectionist, i've just never been a very good one. i told someone this once, and it seemed to be the most perfect thing i'd ever said.
it's how it feels like i'm running out of things to say, but thats not it at all. in reality, i'm running out of words to express the things i need to say. there aren't enough words in the english language for me to actually express everything i want to tell you. and maybe that's why i feel completely inadequate every time i see your back against that building, headed the complete opposite of the way i want you to be headed.
&really it all comes down to the lack of motivation thats floating around in my head when i close my eyes. because how many different ways can i say that i'm lonely? i think i've just about reached my limit on that count.
it's how sometimes i feel like i'm looking at the world like tiny ants. through this glass that surrounds me as soon as my calendar flips over to the sportster. it's how i want to grab the stars and just scream. but i really want to find something more. and it's not something that exists in pretty words, or pretty pictures, or anything pretty at all. it's something that's hidden in those fleeting eyes and wringing hands. and it's inbetween lines and stanzas and measures and beats and anything tangible. it's the ducks in a row, and the halves of faces captured forever.
and it's really that picture i have. where it says "northgate. 1st ave NE" and there's this beautiful sunset in the distance. and to me, that picture is my life. its the highway i want to be on, and the sunset i want to see, and the streets i want to walk. and it's not that things here aren't good. or even great sometimes, but it's more that i feel like i'm waiting in line for things to really begin. i'm stuck in traffic on the on-ramp, and i'm the most impatient driver ever.
i'm a perfectionist of the worst sort, and only a few of you know this. and i've always been a perfectionist, i've just never been a very good one. i told someone this once, and it seemed to be the most perfect thing i'd ever said.
it's how it feels like i'm running out of things to say, but thats not it at all. in reality, i'm running out of words to express the things i need to say. there aren't enough words in the english language for me to actually express everything i want to tell you. and maybe that's why i feel completely inadequate every time i see your back against that building, headed the complete opposite of the way i want you to be headed.