all we ever wanted was everything (all we ever got was gold)
i had this dream once.
we were all in it together, and we were singing as loud as we could.
sometimes, i get scared that no one is listening.
the room i barely sleep in at my parent's house is a very small museum. my friend thomas once called it all "proof," like: you know that you've done amazing things because you have all this proof. no one could call me a liar, right, if i keep all these artifacts everywhere of things that i have done.
i do not sleep in my room much, more on the couch, like i don't want to be too comfortable with a space.
the exhibit julia and i have been making is being pulled together now, with only a little time left to go. it is a monument to a town that we both love and hate and also, in a lot of ways, a goodbye, because i doubt i'll be here for an extended amount of time for quite a while.
i am a bit embarassed right now of how honest i want to be about things. i am so unexpressably happy and terrified, because i am making things, we are making things, i am watching everyone i care about give it their best, and i am not sure what the outcome will be, if there will ever be change, if that's what we need, if that's what we want. i have been having trouble lately, for example, playing shows, because i can't play shows to people who don't listen anymore. what i'm singing is about is so stupidly important to me now that i can't handle it, and it makes me feel like i must be so arrogant? like: here, my big huge voice, my endless words, shut up it's important to me so it must be to you?
a lot of plans and decisions are being made right now that will affect the outcome.
it's funny to me that after all of these years, i still find it somewhat comforting to write in a journal on the internet for everyone to see, like: if i put these things out of my head then maybe everyone will say, "i know how you feel! i had the same dream! i had the same dream!" so i can feel like we are all connected, or something.
anyway, on a funnier note, i can't stop playing pokemon to save my life right now.
we were all in it together, and we were singing as loud as we could.
sometimes, i get scared that no one is listening.
the room i barely sleep in at my parent's house is a very small museum. my friend thomas once called it all "proof," like: you know that you've done amazing things because you have all this proof. no one could call me a liar, right, if i keep all these artifacts everywhere of things that i have done.
i do not sleep in my room much, more on the couch, like i don't want to be too comfortable with a space.
the exhibit julia and i have been making is being pulled together now, with only a little time left to go. it is a monument to a town that we both love and hate and also, in a lot of ways, a goodbye, because i doubt i'll be here for an extended amount of time for quite a while.
i am a bit embarassed right now of how honest i want to be about things. i am so unexpressably happy and terrified, because i am making things, we are making things, i am watching everyone i care about give it their best, and i am not sure what the outcome will be, if there will ever be change, if that's what we need, if that's what we want. i have been having trouble lately, for example, playing shows, because i can't play shows to people who don't listen anymore. what i'm singing is about is so stupidly important to me now that i can't handle it, and it makes me feel like i must be so arrogant? like: here, my big huge voice, my endless words, shut up it's important to me so it must be to you?
a lot of plans and decisions are being made right now that will affect the outcome.
it's funny to me that after all of these years, i still find it somewhat comforting to write in a journal on the internet for everyone to see, like: if i put these things out of my head then maybe everyone will say, "i know how you feel! i had the same dream! i had the same dream!" so i can feel like we are all connected, or something.
anyway, on a funnier note, i can't stop playing pokemon to save my life right now.