rant, it is much needed.
It is days like today that I lose faith in Spanish romances.
Red wine driven poetry and obsession. A force to be reckoned with. It is nights ilke tonight, which had days and days to previously tie up these loose insecure ends. Mechanical, I sit awake at night, 1am,2,am,3am, now 5:30am. I hear you breathe deep and move in your sleep. That is enough, I count the ways I can tell you I love you. Simply longing to be next to you. Mechanical, like clockwork my heart and body grind to a hault. Slowing now. and stopping. Lack of maitenence and long neglected for no reason. nights like those. dragging on. treading water. all tick no tock, these reoccuring ideas in my head. i have never felt so ashamed to lie naked next to someone. i need to get this out. scramble to find my clothing. but you are mine, why run from you? i don't know. Intimacy isn't want it used to be. or did it ever exist. There are no marlin brandos. no james deans. no great love affairs between a boy and a girl, a man and a woman. or anyone. but in this case, you and i. I do love you, with a mondern spanish love. but why am i talking all about my heart. i have other organs, and i like i said, i neglect them. A liver, what good is a liver? what good are a set of lungs, what good is a kidney, or my stomach. They renew themselves anyway, I shouldn't have to care. Oh! Push me down, push me down, push me down singing over the speakers as i type this. Calming, sets me in the right way, gravity puling me to the center of myself again. I do not worry about intimacy as much as i ramble about it. I do not know if I'm human sometimes. I know that I care, and it's not just because i'm obligated. But my feelings are always so forigen in this house. not knowing what is what and which is which. constant wonder. dreaming about alabama, murders and executions. why can't anything have that sense of rustic mystery anymore? the feeling that what's old is good.?
Red wine driven poetry and obsession. A force to be reckoned with. It is nights ilke tonight, which had days and days to previously tie up these loose insecure ends. Mechanical, I sit awake at night, 1am,2,am,3am, now 5:30am. I hear you breathe deep and move in your sleep. That is enough, I count the ways I can tell you I love you. Simply longing to be next to you. Mechanical, like clockwork my heart and body grind to a hault. Slowing now. and stopping. Lack of maitenence and long neglected for no reason. nights like those. dragging on. treading water. all tick no tock, these reoccuring ideas in my head. i have never felt so ashamed to lie naked next to someone. i need to get this out. scramble to find my clothing. but you are mine, why run from you? i don't know. Intimacy isn't want it used to be. or did it ever exist. There are no marlin brandos. no james deans. no great love affairs between a boy and a girl, a man and a woman. or anyone. but in this case, you and i. I do love you, with a mondern spanish love. but why am i talking all about my heart. i have other organs, and i like i said, i neglect them. A liver, what good is a liver? what good are a set of lungs, what good is a kidney, or my stomach. They renew themselves anyway, I shouldn't have to care. Oh! Push me down, push me down, push me down singing over the speakers as i type this. Calming, sets me in the right way, gravity puling me to the center of myself again. I do not worry about intimacy as much as i ramble about it. I do not know if I'm human sometimes. I know that I care, and it's not just because i'm obligated. But my feelings are always so forigen in this house. not knowing what is what and which is which. constant wonder. dreaming about alabama, murders and executions. why can't anything have that sense of rustic mystery anymore? the feeling that what's old is good.?