(no subject)
lost. i don't know why this is hitting me so hard. the rain is perfect, though. cold and unfriendly rain. not that warm, fat, summer rain. it just seems to fit. got back around six this morning after an evening with the others. thanks, ty, for the chili. and thanks, edwin, for making a run. and thanks all of you for not being angry people. i think ty got his ipod stolen last night. i'm not sure. someone mentioned that he couldn't find it, but this was when we were almost back to campus. some of the people there seemed a bit shady. i hope it's not lost or stolen. those things are freaking expensive. also, i don't know if you read this (ty), but are we still on for movies tonight? just wondering. i should do physics. i think it's gonna be a day of sitting in my room, trying to drown out the rest of the world. or the rest of my thoughts. i don't know. loud music and a take-home. good time? i've got some food in here, so i won't starve or anything. if i can remember to eat. gah, i'm hungry now. no matter. "there will be food if ka wills it." i could go haul wood around today and even get paid for it. but i don't have money to get gas to make it out there. besides, i'd work myself to the bone with where my mind is. i'm so fucking distracted. and i don't know what to do. at all. it's like i'm stuck outside, just watching. and that is all i'm doing. it's cold out here, too. cold and raining. i can feel myself shaking, but i can't leave here. i can't go back inside. if i try go back in, i could lose it all. and then i'd be better off outside, watching. how long have i been out here? i don't know. from the looks of things, it's been a while. has it? or is it just my imagination again? gah, listen to me! what is this? it's like moonshine, baby, and it's now. it's skidding accross cement. and i get up, and the palms of my hands are bleeding. my knees are bleeding. blood flowing freely. to within. tracing back to my heart. carrying the infection straight to the source. and the blood runs. that's heart's blood, see how it runs so black. that's from the core. so thick and dull. smells like rust. rust and the smell of rain. of storms. storms that wash it all away. cleansing rain. and the water pours across the scorched canvas and soaks back into the earth from which it came. and the cycle is comlete. but it's a cycle that will never be perfectly recreated. what is this? it's a means to an end. and what an end it will be...