(no subject)
I am way to dramatic for this to be public. But it can be here. So here it is.
I scoured your town, completely aroused.
I tried to write this when I was drunk last night but it just wasn't working out. Now I'm trying to get back to the remarkably honest thoughts one only has when they are trashed but that also isn't working out. Especially since this is where my censored, mass-audience friendly bullshit gets pushed around. Enjoy these bits and peices, they come from a bigger picture but no one ever gets that now do they?
I do not want to spend all of my time in a puff of smoke.
Did those few weeks actually happen? It feels like something out of a dream I had, or a movie I watched, or someone else telling me about their fantastic times.
Last night I ended up with a box of chocolates and took a bite out of most of them.
How do I tell you that it might not be enough anymore? Two thirds of something does not fix things.
I fear for the woman with the broken nose, for she is going without her drugs, and that will get ugly.
I'm listening to HA and thinking about you and missing you and wondering if you are safe and happy and taking care of yourself and not doing too many drugs and I don't want back into that life but I do want you back. I know that is probably impossible. I just said it aloud and now I'm crying and I'm sure you are doing fine but I wonder and for some reason when it's sunny that's when it hurts the worst. I think about the book and drowning in memories seems like a good way to go.
I scoured your town, completely aroused.
I tried to write this when I was drunk last night but it just wasn't working out. Now I'm trying to get back to the remarkably honest thoughts one only has when they are trashed but that also isn't working out. Especially since this is where my censored, mass-audience friendly bullshit gets pushed around. Enjoy these bits and peices, they come from a bigger picture but no one ever gets that now do they?
I do not want to spend all of my time in a puff of smoke.
Did those few weeks actually happen? It feels like something out of a dream I had, or a movie I watched, or someone else telling me about their fantastic times.
Last night I ended up with a box of chocolates and took a bite out of most of them.
How do I tell you that it might not be enough anymore? Two thirds of something does not fix things.
I fear for the woman with the broken nose, for she is going without her drugs, and that will get ugly.
I'm listening to HA and thinking about you and missing you and wondering if you are safe and happy and taking care of yourself and not doing too many drugs and I don't want back into that life but I do want you back. I know that is probably impossible. I just said it aloud and now I'm crying and I'm sure you are doing fine but I wonder and for some reason when it's sunny that's when it hurts the worst. I think about the book and drowning in memories seems like a good way to go.