(no subject)
Does anyone really know what they they're doing or what they want out life, or is everyone who think they do just fooling themselves?
I miss the comfortable, repetitive stability of last summer. Up by 1 in the afternoon, home by 5 in the morning. It didn't matter if we were going to the race track that day, playing Risk, making runs to Dunkin' Donuts, or just laying on Matt's trampoline staring at the stars together. Maybe if I could go back to one night where we all just laid on Matt's bed, talking about nothing, or just appreciating the silence and each other, then maybe I could make sense of everything right now.
Last night a friend and I listened to Evanescence's 'Bring Me To Life'. Instead of appreciating the beautiful song, I was suddenly lost in my mind, going back to a random night where Ashley and I were blasting that song while driving somewhere together. I remember us going 'oo, oo!' when the song came on and impulsively turning the volume dial to the right. I remember the windows of the car being down, how we sang on the top of our lungs over the loud music and the wind. How we'd look at each other every now and then, Ashley's eyes glowing. How we'd laugh together when we'd try to reach the high notes. The warm, abrupt lights of houses and lampposts we'd speed by.
I hate crying in front of other people.
I miss the comfortable, repetitive stability of last summer. Up by 1 in the afternoon, home by 5 in the morning. It didn't matter if we were going to the race track that day, playing Risk, making runs to Dunkin' Donuts, or just laying on Matt's trampoline staring at the stars together. Maybe if I could go back to one night where we all just laid on Matt's bed, talking about nothing, or just appreciating the silence and each other, then maybe I could make sense of everything right now.
Last night a friend and I listened to Evanescence's 'Bring Me To Life'. Instead of appreciating the beautiful song, I was suddenly lost in my mind, going back to a random night where Ashley and I were blasting that song while driving somewhere together. I remember us going 'oo, oo!' when the song came on and impulsively turning the volume dial to the right. I remember the windows of the car being down, how we sang on the top of our lungs over the loud music and the wind. How we'd look at each other every now and then, Ashley's eyes glowing. How we'd laugh together when we'd try to reach the high notes. The warm, abrupt lights of houses and lampposts we'd speed by.
I hate crying in front of other people.