I've come so far, with no idea where to go.
It's dark outside and the only thing I don’t want to be right now is alone. But that will change by tomorrow. And for tonight I have my music to keep me company.
I didn’t fit you.
I never will.
Sometimes I worry about the fact that I never feel like I ever really fit anywhere. I’m convinced I was born in the wrong era, the wrong place, the wrong something. I know I have a good life, and I am happy. I am. I just crave something more than this. Desire sits on the tip of my tongue and I want to speak it, scream it out. But how can I when I don’t even know what it is? There is no shortness of love; I am surrounded by people I couldn't imagine life without. But there is a shortness in understanding.
The days have gotten hotter. So this weekend, I plan to be alone for awhile. Not because I'm tired of everyone. Not because I want "out of this house." But because I like my company more than anyone else’s. I can think whatever and I can walk as fast as I want. I can go as far as I want to go. I can run without having a stopping point. I don't have to hear someone complaining about bugs or the heat. I can just smile and for once not have my fists clenched and I can feel like I am good enough for someone.
The air and myself.
I want someone who feels the same as I do. We could share in this together. We could sit on a couch at Borders for three hours straight and neither one of us would complain. It’s each other’s company we'd come for, and that would be all that mattered.
I just wish everyone else were like that. I wish I could find someone who feels things as deeply as I do. Maybe my problem is that I read too much. Holden Caulfield is my ideal. I listen to music that talks about longing too much. Maybe I just need to find a way to extinguish the desire that's been in my heart since day one.
I wish everyone would realize how fortunate they are.
I listen to Imagine by John Lennon and I want that so bad. So stinking bad.
There was a time period where I focused on dying more than living. Not in a suicidal sense, not like that at all. I was incredibly content, in an isolated way. It was more like a journey through months of music with words that could explain this more than I could, and pages and pages and endless pages of sonnets and unsent letters. And all of this was brought on by something that wasn't even worth it. He sat on the hood of his car, kissed my neck, and all I could think was, "What a Goddamn mess I am in." That night I lost him forever. I thought I lost myself for a while there too, but I was just dizzy.
I really want Copeland to go on tour again before I leave for Australia. Whenever that may be. It's like you go to their show and come out a happier person. Their words just make you realize things you never really payed attention to. Aaron Marsh sings things that you wish every boy would say. They apologize for how they hurt you. They tell you the truth of how they don't love you. They just make life seem so easy. And they helped me realize that it is.
Everyone says to be a writer you should have an intelligent vocabulary. I agree. Somewhat. If you write, you want people to listen. But average people can't read a book and understand every thought, every angle, every idea you are preaching if your vocabulary sends their mind out of the window. I think of myself as simple, but everyone says I'm complicated. My writing is pretty much to the point, but sometimes my words get all jumbled and you have to have a decoder to figure anything out. So I try to keep things s-i-m-p-l-e. (I've started this annoying habit where I spell everything out, like its some kind of secret; like I'm five years old.) I guess I don't think people should read a book and have a strenuous time just pronouncing the words in a sentence. I want people to enjoy words. Enjoy simplicity!
I long for the day when I will finally be in the place where I feel I belong. I want the cold. I want sweaters. I want the woods with no leaves and spiders in my face. I want the lake freezing over in the morning and seeing the fish swim underneath it (wondering what its like to feel that trapped) I want the crunching of grass when getting the newspaper. I want the feeling of being a little free. Because the birds aren't chirping anymore. The kids are inside loosing their minds to whatever is on TV. The snakes have disappeared and everything is safe and silent. Everything is silent except for my boots, the sound escaping my headphones, the zipper of my brown jacket and the thoughts that I can't seem to contain inside of my lingering mind.
Oh, I want that all so badly I can taste it.
"I've never lived the dream of the prom kings and the drama queens,
I'd like to think the best of me is still hiding up my sleeve."
Thank you, John Mayer, for putting it into words.
I get upset if you make fun of my music. Its weird and strange that I would cry over this. But I do. Opinions are good just as long as you don't make fun of something that I pretty much revolve everything around.
Someone once accused me of being too apathetic, but she was wrong.
I feel things far too deeply for my own good.
My thoughts are all over the place tonight, but that's okay. Order is overrated anyway.
I didn’t fit you.
I never will.
Sometimes I worry about the fact that I never feel like I ever really fit anywhere. I’m convinced I was born in the wrong era, the wrong place, the wrong something. I know I have a good life, and I am happy. I am. I just crave something more than this. Desire sits on the tip of my tongue and I want to speak it, scream it out. But how can I when I don’t even know what it is? There is no shortness of love; I am surrounded by people I couldn't imagine life without. But there is a shortness in understanding.
The days have gotten hotter. So this weekend, I plan to be alone for awhile. Not because I'm tired of everyone. Not because I want "out of this house." But because I like my company more than anyone else’s. I can think whatever and I can walk as fast as I want. I can go as far as I want to go. I can run without having a stopping point. I don't have to hear someone complaining about bugs or the heat. I can just smile and for once not have my fists clenched and I can feel like I am good enough for someone.
The air and myself.
I want someone who feels the same as I do. We could share in this together. We could sit on a couch at Borders for three hours straight and neither one of us would complain. It’s each other’s company we'd come for, and that would be all that mattered.
I just wish everyone else were like that. I wish I could find someone who feels things as deeply as I do. Maybe my problem is that I read too much. Holden Caulfield is my ideal. I listen to music that talks about longing too much. Maybe I just need to find a way to extinguish the desire that's been in my heart since day one.
I wish everyone would realize how fortunate they are.
I listen to Imagine by John Lennon and I want that so bad. So stinking bad.
There was a time period where I focused on dying more than living. Not in a suicidal sense, not like that at all. I was incredibly content, in an isolated way. It was more like a journey through months of music with words that could explain this more than I could, and pages and pages and endless pages of sonnets and unsent letters. And all of this was brought on by something that wasn't even worth it. He sat on the hood of his car, kissed my neck, and all I could think was, "What a Goddamn mess I am in." That night I lost him forever. I thought I lost myself for a while there too, but I was just dizzy.
I really want Copeland to go on tour again before I leave for Australia. Whenever that may be. It's like you go to their show and come out a happier person. Their words just make you realize things you never really payed attention to. Aaron Marsh sings things that you wish every boy would say. They apologize for how they hurt you. They tell you the truth of how they don't love you. They just make life seem so easy. And they helped me realize that it is.
Everyone says to be a writer you should have an intelligent vocabulary. I agree. Somewhat. If you write, you want people to listen. But average people can't read a book and understand every thought, every angle, every idea you are preaching if your vocabulary sends their mind out of the window. I think of myself as simple, but everyone says I'm complicated. My writing is pretty much to the point, but sometimes my words get all jumbled and you have to have a decoder to figure anything out. So I try to keep things s-i-m-p-l-e. (I've started this annoying habit where I spell everything out, like its some kind of secret; like I'm five years old.) I guess I don't think people should read a book and have a strenuous time just pronouncing the words in a sentence. I want people to enjoy words. Enjoy simplicity!
I long for the day when I will finally be in the place where I feel I belong. I want the cold. I want sweaters. I want the woods with no leaves and spiders in my face. I want the lake freezing over in the morning and seeing the fish swim underneath it (wondering what its like to feel that trapped) I want the crunching of grass when getting the newspaper. I want the feeling of being a little free. Because the birds aren't chirping anymore. The kids are inside loosing their minds to whatever is on TV. The snakes have disappeared and everything is safe and silent. Everything is silent except for my boots, the sound escaping my headphones, the zipper of my brown jacket and the thoughts that I can't seem to contain inside of my lingering mind.
Oh, I want that all so badly I can taste it.
"I've never lived the dream of the prom kings and the drama queens,
I'd like to think the best of me is still hiding up my sleeve."
Thank you, John Mayer, for putting it into words.
I get upset if you make fun of my music. Its weird and strange that I would cry over this. But I do. Opinions are good just as long as you don't make fun of something that I pretty much revolve everything around.
Someone once accused me of being too apathetic, but she was wrong.
I feel things far too deeply for my own good.
My thoughts are all over the place tonight, but that's okay. Order is overrated anyway.