Feeling Like a Falling Bomb.
This song is beautiful. Davey and Jade can still deliver. "Bitter For Sweet" is perfect.
I had my first driving session in two weeks (since I was sick last week) and it went terribly. I felt completely separate from the car. And there was an extra passenger; not that it mattered much. I just couldn't feel the wheel as it worked, and I didn't look in the mirrors or out of the windows or anything at all helpful. And then I almost rammed a car in the road. If it hadn't been for the emergency brake under Rick's foot, I'd probably be dead right now. It was that bad. I'm considerably shaken.
He just looked at me for a few seconds, then said, "Go home, get some sleep. Stressed? Is it a boy? Let me tell you something..." It's nice to know some things never change.
I can't think clearly. It's been a strange couple of days, following a strange couple of months. Things aren't bad, and that's probably the hardest part of this mess. I'm in a place between alert and dismissive. I know that sounds really vague, maybe even stupid, but it fits in my head. Maybe this headache is only the result of an expanding mind. I still don't know about the parade in Manhattan on Saturday. I just don't know if I can afford the trip right now. It's only about twenty dollars, but I don't have a job and I'm still holding my breath for my mother's company; which means our finances as a whole. It sounds like they'll pull through. I just hope the worst doesn't involve an end. In any way, I'm guessing we'll be fine. We've been okay before.
Liz is having her birthday party on Friday. The theme is clear; I have to dress like a guido. I'm considering spandex and a lot of gold. I might do some self-tanner with the others. You know, if the mood strikes.
Is a mistake only a mistake once it's been made? I wonder if doing the right thing will always mean doing the hard thing. Are people consistent?
I want to see "300." I haven't been to a movie in a while. I've always been captivated by the lights, the big screen, and the stadium seating. I also enjoy having good holders for cups. People forget how important those are.
I feel like I'm keeping you in the dark. Yes, I suppose I am. I have been. It's easier to stay evasive and keep looking ahead. I feel like I'm disassociating from the world that I create. I've lied to you, I've lied to myself. And now, caught between the two evils, I'm not sure which is more criminal. You've been in shoes like these before. And when you finally told me a certain reality, I didn't reject it. But I have to doubt that you'd accept these decisions. I value your voice above all others when it comes to this, but I'm worried it won't sound like it does in my own mind. Leave a message I can retrieve without pressing a button. Leave an imprint, not a scar.
I had my first driving session in two weeks (since I was sick last week) and it went terribly. I felt completely separate from the car. And there was an extra passenger; not that it mattered much. I just couldn't feel the wheel as it worked, and I didn't look in the mirrors or out of the windows or anything at all helpful. And then I almost rammed a car in the road. If it hadn't been for the emergency brake under Rick's foot, I'd probably be dead right now. It was that bad. I'm considerably shaken.
He just looked at me for a few seconds, then said, "Go home, get some sleep. Stressed? Is it a boy? Let me tell you something..." It's nice to know some things never change.
I can't think clearly. It's been a strange couple of days, following a strange couple of months. Things aren't bad, and that's probably the hardest part of this mess. I'm in a place between alert and dismissive. I know that sounds really vague, maybe even stupid, but it fits in my head. Maybe this headache is only the result of an expanding mind. I still don't know about the parade in Manhattan on Saturday. I just don't know if I can afford the trip right now. It's only about twenty dollars, but I don't have a job and I'm still holding my breath for my mother's company; which means our finances as a whole. It sounds like they'll pull through. I just hope the worst doesn't involve an end. In any way, I'm guessing we'll be fine. We've been okay before.
Liz is having her birthday party on Friday. The theme is clear; I have to dress like a guido. I'm considering spandex and a lot of gold. I might do some self-tanner with the others. You know, if the mood strikes.
Is a mistake only a mistake once it's been made? I wonder if doing the right thing will always mean doing the hard thing. Are people consistent?
I want to see "300." I haven't been to a movie in a while. I've always been captivated by the lights, the big screen, and the stadium seating. I also enjoy having good holders for cups. People forget how important those are.
I feel like I'm keeping you in the dark. Yes, I suppose I am. I have been. It's easier to stay evasive and keep looking ahead. I feel like I'm disassociating from the world that I create. I've lied to you, I've lied to myself. And now, caught between the two evils, I'm not sure which is more criminal. You've been in shoes like these before. And when you finally told me a certain reality, I didn't reject it. But I have to doubt that you'd accept these decisions. I value your voice above all others when it comes to this, but I'm worried it won't sound like it does in my own mind. Leave a message I can retrieve without pressing a button. Leave an imprint, not a scar.