Meaningless
"I swear, this is the only time I will ever say your name and like the sound it makes," I said into the mouthpiece of my cell phone about a month and a half ago.
There was a jalopy bounding down the street as I came home from the bar. It made puffing sounds--these great fucking huffing and puffing sounds. Like the little engine that could, who was smoking a peace pipe. But before I could puff along with it, your ringback tone started to play: "Meaningless" by the Magnetic Fields. "How fitting!" I thought. But I didn't really understand it.
I chased the car downhill, I had nothing to lose. I was hoping to get a ride from an elementary school buddy, whom I hadn't seen since high school, but he was long gone. I ran away from him in my attempt to catch a car I thought for sure was somehow important in my life's masterplan, since I was so oddly attracted to it in the first place.
And besides, all my plans were never plans at all. I don't know how to make plans. I don't know how to keep them. I don't know why I should keep them if it's not a two way street.
I never regretted anything, because I never really made a mistake. I learn from everything. And besides, nothing's ever a loss if you learn. And don't sleep around. You never have anything to feel sorry about that way. Maybe that's why I'm so fucking numb to everything. Why I'd never throw a shoe, unless it was at the wall. Why I'd never hate anyone else but myself. It's not like I try to hurt people. And the people that love me, maybe more than I can even put into a mouthful, those are the people I somehow step on. The people who actually give a fuck. The "I love you's" of January. The "I love you's" of February. And hopefully of March, April, and May. Because I get off on being loved. I get off on helping people recognize that they can love. What the fuck kind of asshole am I? The naive kind? The numb kind? The good kind? The dumb kind?
Was I the jalopy? Was I moving on? Was I missing something? Was I running away from the people who actually gave a damn? Was I huffing and puffing a little too much? Was I trying to hard? Or was it all meaningless?
You see,
I'd like to feel the moment I was just in.
But I can't. I've already left it.
And besides, today (and especially tomorrow), I'd rather pretend we don't exist at all..
There was a jalopy bounding down the street as I came home from the bar. It made puffing sounds--these great fucking huffing and puffing sounds. Like the little engine that could, who was smoking a peace pipe. But before I could puff along with it, your ringback tone started to play: "Meaningless" by the Magnetic Fields. "How fitting!" I thought. But I didn't really understand it.
I chased the car downhill, I had nothing to lose. I was hoping to get a ride from an elementary school buddy, whom I hadn't seen since high school, but he was long gone. I ran away from him in my attempt to catch a car I thought for sure was somehow important in my life's masterplan, since I was so oddly attracted to it in the first place.
And besides, all my plans were never plans at all. I don't know how to make plans. I don't know how to keep them. I don't know why I should keep them if it's not a two way street.
I never regretted anything, because I never really made a mistake. I learn from everything. And besides, nothing's ever a loss if you learn. And don't sleep around. You never have anything to feel sorry about that way. Maybe that's why I'm so fucking numb to everything. Why I'd never throw a shoe, unless it was at the wall. Why I'd never hate anyone else but myself. It's not like I try to hurt people. And the people that love me, maybe more than I can even put into a mouthful, those are the people I somehow step on. The people who actually give a fuck. The "I love you's" of January. The "I love you's" of February. And hopefully of March, April, and May. Because I get off on being loved. I get off on helping people recognize that they can love. What the fuck kind of asshole am I? The naive kind? The numb kind? The good kind? The dumb kind?
Was I the jalopy? Was I moving on? Was I missing something? Was I running away from the people who actually gave a damn? Was I huffing and puffing a little too much? Was I trying to hard? Or was it all meaningless?
You see,
I'd like to feel the moment I was just in.
But I can't. I've already left it.
And besides, today (and especially tomorrow), I'd rather pretend we don't exist at all..