(no subject)
my hands are tied but i have no right to mind
definitely can't complain/
after all i asked for it begged for it died for it just to have it this way.
my only i wish is literacy.
i want to read her, know her understand her.
underline passages that stand out and quote the monologues of her heart.
i'm fumbling for something in the dark.
my tongue is tied but i just can't i just can't just can't mind.
if i could have gotten out of the car and run away, i think i would have.
i'm not good with handling some things.
i'm just not that stable.
and i don't know what to do when she feels so distant it's the look in her eyes that won't look into my eyes.
some secret joke that's not funny.
secrets start secrets start secrets pull us apart.
fair is fair is fair until you pull my hair.
i ask questions that i know that i don't want to know.
i keep listening when i know that i don't want to hear it.
a glutton for fucking punishment?
maybe. maybe i'm just optimistic.
she said you're a touch overrated. you're a lush and i hate it.
and i said, i'm sorry i just can't because i don't know who i am.
and i don't know what it is you want.
because you never told me, you just asked if i was going to forgive which of course the answer was yes but just what are we waiting for?
something more, something more.
i slept peaceful last night with her next to me, beneath me, her head on my chest.
eyes closed because the suns coming through the blinds all muted but it tangles in your hair and then we open our eyes and the day has gone without us so we dress and shower and head our separate ways still not quite knowing if anyone or anything is ever really okay.
i think that would be enough, just to be okay.
are we ever okay though, i mean really?
i don't know.
probably i doubt that's what i really want anyway.
i am the razor in the hands of your heart/i am the razor in the hands of god.
i don't know what that means but i know that i mean it.
and i know that i love her but i don't know what to do about it.
and i know that there's things in my life that she doesn't believe in, but i don't know if that means she doesn't believe in me.
and i know that all i ever think about is singing, but i don't even know if i have a song worth singing anymore.
or if i'm just a played out cassette tape and all i want is for a couple lovers to come along and pull my tape out and string it around the city between pianos and street signs and the light that happens at night when two kids believe in true love before they have time to slow down look around and fall back out.
whatever i think i'm done with this journal.
every day i become more and more the ambulancia but what the fuck is the point of writing in a journal where i'm not going to kiss and tell about what drugs i've been doing with who and all about sex and all those feelings that sometimes fill my head with things that i swallow down and pretend never happened in my head.
too many thoughts that aren't worth posting to be not read by people who don't want to hear what i really have to say anyway i don't know what the fuck i'm talking about i'm just going to stop cause this is all bullshit.
it's totally fucked up i'm totally fucked up wish you were here.
brandon.
definitely can't complain/
after all i asked for it begged for it died for it just to have it this way.
my only i wish is literacy.
i want to read her, know her understand her.
underline passages that stand out and quote the monologues of her heart.
i'm fumbling for something in the dark.
my tongue is tied but i just can't i just can't just can't mind.
if i could have gotten out of the car and run away, i think i would have.
i'm not good with handling some things.
i'm just not that stable.
and i don't know what to do when she feels so distant it's the look in her eyes that won't look into my eyes.
some secret joke that's not funny.
secrets start secrets start secrets pull us apart.
fair is fair is fair until you pull my hair.
i ask questions that i know that i don't want to know.
i keep listening when i know that i don't want to hear it.
a glutton for fucking punishment?
maybe. maybe i'm just optimistic.
she said you're a touch overrated. you're a lush and i hate it.
and i said, i'm sorry i just can't because i don't know who i am.
and i don't know what it is you want.
because you never told me, you just asked if i was going to forgive which of course the answer was yes but just what are we waiting for?
something more, something more.
i slept peaceful last night with her next to me, beneath me, her head on my chest.
eyes closed because the suns coming through the blinds all muted but it tangles in your hair and then we open our eyes and the day has gone without us so we dress and shower and head our separate ways still not quite knowing if anyone or anything is ever really okay.
i think that would be enough, just to be okay.
are we ever okay though, i mean really?
i don't know.
probably i doubt that's what i really want anyway.
i am the razor in the hands of your heart/i am the razor in the hands of god.
i don't know what that means but i know that i mean it.
and i know that i love her but i don't know what to do about it.
and i know that there's things in my life that she doesn't believe in, but i don't know if that means she doesn't believe in me.
and i know that all i ever think about is singing, but i don't even know if i have a song worth singing anymore.
or if i'm just a played out cassette tape and all i want is for a couple lovers to come along and pull my tape out and string it around the city between pianos and street signs and the light that happens at night when two kids believe in true love before they have time to slow down look around and fall back out.
whatever i think i'm done with this journal.
every day i become more and more the ambulancia but what the fuck is the point of writing in a journal where i'm not going to kiss and tell about what drugs i've been doing with who and all about sex and all those feelings that sometimes fill my head with things that i swallow down and pretend never happened in my head.
too many thoughts that aren't worth posting to be not read by people who don't want to hear what i really have to say anyway i don't know what the fuck i'm talking about i'm just going to stop cause this is all bullshit.
it's totally fucked up i'm totally fucked up wish you were here.
brandon.