Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies
Bro's before hoes, friendships before love, relationships regress to friendships.
Months pass, without a word spoken. Words on a screen don't allow you to transcribe the feelings or emotions expressed therein, let alone hear the voice on the other end. Their voice is faded and distorted in memory. Their face scrambled in your eyes as if you were immensely intoxicated, spinning in a tornado, and getting shot in the eye with that damn air thing they use during your eye examination. I need new glasses. I've needed new glasses.
My glasses remind me a little of my life in the sense that they've become worn, broken, taped together and only held on by a thin substance. I'm at the point in my life where maybe trying new things is a good idea, but hell, I can't find myself eating guacamole anytime soon. Old things are things you are accustomed to. It's the habitualness of them that makes it this way. A prime example is playing an instrument. All the time spent practicing, performing, and utilizing perfection with the instrument involved insures you that you can drop it for years but it will always be waiting. Kinda like a save point in a video game if you will. Kinda. Ehh, not really. More like the sleepng giant that you couldn't defeat so you gave up, and hit the save button.
So we talked. Talked and played video games. Video games, and more talking. The night progressed. She's here, but she's not back. Do I want her back? Could I have her back? These are questions I try not to think about. I try not to think about them because we are on the same page. At least I think. I don't want things to be awkward. I like her company, that won't change. Her friends, my friends, fill our heads with thoughts of their own. Do their opinions matter? Yes, but, ours matter more. Mine matters more. He's shit, She's shit, You've been hurt too much, You can find better, You don't need him, You don't need her, He broke your heart, She broke your heart. Not that these things aren't true, but, a friendship at the very least can form between the most hated of foes. Is it jealousy that causes these friends to say this? Is it because they're looking out for you? I can't answer these questions. My feelings are shattered. My body is numb. My mind is elsewhere. My destination in life, unknown. My hopes, high. My goals, seem unachievable, but again, my hopes are high.
I look out for myself. If worst comes to worst, at the end of the day, "I told you so," will be the explanation I prepare myself for but right now, I'm complacent and content knowing that either way being around her makes me as happy as before even if it is nothing more than a fluke.
Yet again, my hopes, high.
Months pass, without a word spoken. Words on a screen don't allow you to transcribe the feelings or emotions expressed therein, let alone hear the voice on the other end. Their voice is faded and distorted in memory. Their face scrambled in your eyes as if you were immensely intoxicated, spinning in a tornado, and getting shot in the eye with that damn air thing they use during your eye examination. I need new glasses. I've needed new glasses.
My glasses remind me a little of my life in the sense that they've become worn, broken, taped together and only held on by a thin substance. I'm at the point in my life where maybe trying new things is a good idea, but hell, I can't find myself eating guacamole anytime soon. Old things are things you are accustomed to. It's the habitualness of them that makes it this way. A prime example is playing an instrument. All the time spent practicing, performing, and utilizing perfection with the instrument involved insures you that you can drop it for years but it will always be waiting. Kinda like a save point in a video game if you will. Kinda. Ehh, not really. More like the sleepng giant that you couldn't defeat so you gave up, and hit the save button.
So we talked. Talked and played video games. Video games, and more talking. The night progressed. She's here, but she's not back. Do I want her back? Could I have her back? These are questions I try not to think about. I try not to think about them because we are on the same page. At least I think. I don't want things to be awkward. I like her company, that won't change. Her friends, my friends, fill our heads with thoughts of their own. Do their opinions matter? Yes, but, ours matter more. Mine matters more. He's shit, She's shit, You've been hurt too much, You can find better, You don't need him, You don't need her, He broke your heart, She broke your heart. Not that these things aren't true, but, a friendship at the very least can form between the most hated of foes. Is it jealousy that causes these friends to say this? Is it because they're looking out for you? I can't answer these questions. My feelings are shattered. My body is numb. My mind is elsewhere. My destination in life, unknown. My hopes, high. My goals, seem unachievable, but again, my hopes are high.
I look out for myself. If worst comes to worst, at the end of the day, "I told you so," will be the explanation I prepare myself for but right now, I'm complacent and content knowing that either way being around her makes me as happy as before even if it is nothing more than a fluke.
Yet again, my hopes, high.