(no subject)
there's a certain way to go about certain things, and certainly i've done it all wrong. i've tripped and i'm stumbled upon nothing interesting and it's trapped me in the cycle. the top of my dresser cluttered with phone numbers of people i can't remember and pictures of when that was me. old notes from eighth grade that meant so much at the time but now i can't remember who jason was or chris or why we hated our gym teacher so much. i'm beginning to forget the time i did have with mikey and i hate that because i know now how precious that time was. i'm not a materialistic person, i don't think, but maybe if i could just have more... don't help me and don't hand me the band-aid when i scrap my elbows but if you could just light that cigarette for me because i can't find my lighter, i'd greatly appreciate it. maybe my childhood is gone. maybe instead of noticing it trying to slip out the side door and tackling it to come back, i'm watching it walk out the front door and barely realizing what i'm seeing go. nostalgia only really hits when she hands me skipper and tells me to dress her beautiful because barbie said so. she'll "brush" my hair, but a rubber band on top of my head and present me "done" and "gorgeous". her ability to not bullshit is a nice change of pace and there is no drama with her. not in the conventional sense. no boyfriend treating her badly (and that will NEVER happen), no fights with her best friend, no lonely friday nights. the most drama from her adorable three year old self is when my old cabbage patch doll's head fell off last summer. she apologized for a week because obviously time is her fault.