(no subject)
i meant to make something of tonight. i find myself just sitting here holding on to nothing and listening to music. Currently, The Postal Service "This Place Is A Prison". eek. a slight home hitter. i'd also turned on the television in the events of maybe playing some Infinite Undiscovery or watching me some Stargate. no, instead i'm watching some HGTV junk about this woman getting a house. the girl buying the house just bums me the hell out. reminder of all that i felt i was forced to have.
a play with my limitations like robin abused that pooh. or was it the other way around? unimportant, like so much more i'm sure. i'm getting sidetracked.
these nights off, i've felt torn apart. the night is so unfamiliar. driving in it, looking out into it. making it something i can measure in distance. if the lie was an apple, then the lie was made out math.
this separation of soul. old ideas, still incomplete. but that's familiar if you must know.
a play with my limitations like robin abused that pooh. or was it the other way around? unimportant, like so much more i'm sure. i'm getting sidetracked.
these nights off, i've felt torn apart. the night is so unfamiliar. driving in it, looking out into it. making it something i can measure in distance. if the lie was an apple, then the lie was made out math.
this separation of soul. old ideas, still incomplete. but that's familiar if you must know.