A Watch That Won't Work.
It would be easy to say that I am angry because I did not get what I wanted. Or that I will not get what I want. Or that I decided that what I wanted wasn't really what I wanted after everything was said and done. But all of that is no good, as it's largely irrelevant and it's time to be brutally honest. I want to tell all of my friends the same thing: I love you for what you are, and not what you do. The problem is that I don't know if that's always right. Even when I lose my head or my way, I still hold you high in my mind. I think it's time we talked it over and decided to come together or break apart. What is it that you wanted from me? Am I the cost or the price? Am I the penalty or the allowance?
I had my first driving session of Driver Ed. on Wednesday and it went pretty well. I drove around a residential area and then back to the school. I've been paired with a boy I vaguely remember from an old gym class. He doesn't say much, but I like what he does say. My instructor is an ancient chimney who talks about his NASCAR days and taps the emergency brake a lot when I turn too sharply. It's more comforting than I'd imagined, this learning how to steer an extension of myself. Who would have thought?
Have you ever been enlightened in the dark? It's like opening your eyes under the ocean, or like telling a story without speaking. He told me that I was worth it, and that I was pretty and funny and more secretive than is healthy. He was right about everything. If I could tell him one thing, it would be that I am sorry that this is a hard time to be alive. And that maybe being unloved isn't always worse than being loved. Maybe it's just different. And as hard as it is to watch the current rise against you, or hear an incoherent saga unfold, it happens. Shit happens. It hits the fan and breaks your heart and rips you into pieces. So what happens when what's left of you is stronger than the original? It's got to be possible to live again, to do better than you'd thought you could. The upside of anger is the person you become. That much is true. Tell me something that makes you feel better about the silence.
I'm sorry if I ever made you feel second-best, and maybe talked over you when you had to get something off your chest. I only wanted to be important. That doesn't have to translate into bigness. I never realized how very special I am to more than a few people. That's nice and rare and everything else that's worth anything to feel and be. Any one person, at any given time, is special to someone, somewhere. That's just the way it goes. I won't pretend otherwise and I wouldn't want to. Would you?
I've got to order tickets to the Bright Eyes concert in March. It's my birthday gift to Kat. I also want to see Guster (and The Format) in April, and Voxtrot in June. I love spring tours. They make everything that much brighter. It makes me feel that much more alive. Jesus, I should probably get a job. Coinstar just made me $6.54 the other day. That's my salary for the week. "Pitiful" would be an understatement.
Anyway, it would seem that I am coming full-circle. Things have to get worse before they can get better. If I were a plot summary, I would be falling into action as we speak.
I had my first driving session of Driver Ed. on Wednesday and it went pretty well. I drove around a residential area and then back to the school. I've been paired with a boy I vaguely remember from an old gym class. He doesn't say much, but I like what he does say. My instructor is an ancient chimney who talks about his NASCAR days and taps the emergency brake a lot when I turn too sharply. It's more comforting than I'd imagined, this learning how to steer an extension of myself. Who would have thought?
Have you ever been enlightened in the dark? It's like opening your eyes under the ocean, or like telling a story without speaking. He told me that I was worth it, and that I was pretty and funny and more secretive than is healthy. He was right about everything. If I could tell him one thing, it would be that I am sorry that this is a hard time to be alive. And that maybe being unloved isn't always worse than being loved. Maybe it's just different. And as hard as it is to watch the current rise against you, or hear an incoherent saga unfold, it happens. Shit happens. It hits the fan and breaks your heart and rips you into pieces. So what happens when what's left of you is stronger than the original? It's got to be possible to live again, to do better than you'd thought you could. The upside of anger is the person you become. That much is true. Tell me something that makes you feel better about the silence.
I'm sorry if I ever made you feel second-best, and maybe talked over you when you had to get something off your chest. I only wanted to be important. That doesn't have to translate into bigness. I never realized how very special I am to more than a few people. That's nice and rare and everything else that's worth anything to feel and be. Any one person, at any given time, is special to someone, somewhere. That's just the way it goes. I won't pretend otherwise and I wouldn't want to. Would you?
I've got to order tickets to the Bright Eyes concert in March. It's my birthday gift to Kat. I also want to see Guster (and The Format) in April, and Voxtrot in June. I love spring tours. They make everything that much brighter. It makes me feel that much more alive. Jesus, I should probably get a job. Coinstar just made me $6.54 the other day. That's my salary for the week. "Pitiful" would be an understatement.
Anyway, it would seem that I am coming full-circle. Things have to get worse before they can get better. If I were a plot summary, I would be falling into action as we speak.