Born to the land of opportunity, of manifest destiny...
"Bones are broken and the will is sunk
How did everything get so fucked up?
Do you want to change your mind?
You can always change your mind"
The jukebox seemed to be in a decent mood, pumping out an upbeat piano ditty as Logan browsed the bookshelf, his fingers grazing over the spines of books and magazines before coming to rest on a ratty looking tabloid. There was nothing of interest on the cover, just another headline about Paris Hilton and a photo of that kid Tom Cruse had with Katie Homes, or didn't have, depending on who you listened to... Flipping through it lazily, he skimmed the pages for something of interest, and then froze.
It was his mother. Or, rather, the woman who had apparently played her, standing next to his father of all people. He didn't look at the article though, didn't look for their real names or anything else that might trigger yet another spiral of depression. Instead Logan simply tore out the photograph and tossed the trashy rag aside.
You and I could quit this scene
Build a town and then secede
Like an Adam and an Eve
'Cause to the dreamers go the dreams
But the leaders have the lead
It's a frightening, frightening thing
They looked happy. Happy in a way Logan could almost remember if he closed his eyes tight enough. But dwelling in the past never solved anything, right? That's what he was slowly learning. Clutching the small clipping, he sat down on the couch and slumped back against the cushions with a soft sigh. Things were getting better, slowly but surely, and he could almost feel his emotions levelling out to something almost like normal. It had been such a long month, and he was so over it. He was ready for December to hurry up and freeze everything over into a pleasant numbness.
Born to the land of opportunity
Of manifest destiny...
The photo crinkled a little between his fingers, and he nearly balled it up and tossed it away. Nearly. He couldn't though, he just couldn't. Even though it wasn't real, even though it was nothing more than a photo of two actors, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. Sometimes a little fiction was nice. It made the reality a little easier to swallow.
Because for a moment, just a moment, his parents weren't dead. The world as he knew it hadn't come crashing down, and he could find an ounce of happiness. It made for a nice change from the usual doom and gloom.
How did everything get so fucked up?
Do you want to change your mind?
You can always change your mind"
The jukebox seemed to be in a decent mood, pumping out an upbeat piano ditty as Logan browsed the bookshelf, his fingers grazing over the spines of books and magazines before coming to rest on a ratty looking tabloid. There was nothing of interest on the cover, just another headline about Paris Hilton and a photo of that kid Tom Cruse had with Katie Homes, or didn't have, depending on who you listened to... Flipping through it lazily, he skimmed the pages for something of interest, and then froze.
It was his mother. Or, rather, the woman who had apparently played her, standing next to his father of all people. He didn't look at the article though, didn't look for their real names or anything else that might trigger yet another spiral of depression. Instead Logan simply tore out the photograph and tossed the trashy rag aside.
You and I could quit this scene
Build a town and then secede
Like an Adam and an Eve
'Cause to the dreamers go the dreams
But the leaders have the lead
It's a frightening, frightening thing
They looked happy. Happy in a way Logan could almost remember if he closed his eyes tight enough. But dwelling in the past never solved anything, right? That's what he was slowly learning. Clutching the small clipping, he sat down on the couch and slumped back against the cushions with a soft sigh. Things were getting better, slowly but surely, and he could almost feel his emotions levelling out to something almost like normal. It had been such a long month, and he was so over it. He was ready for December to hurry up and freeze everything over into a pleasant numbness.
Born to the land of opportunity
Of manifest destiny...
The photo crinkled a little between his fingers, and he nearly balled it up and tossed it away. Nearly. He couldn't though, he just couldn't. Even though it wasn't real, even though it was nothing more than a photo of two actors, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. Sometimes a little fiction was nice. It made the reality a little easier to swallow.
Because for a moment, just a moment, his parents weren't dead. The world as he knew it hadn't come crashing down, and he could find an ounce of happiness. It made for a nice change from the usual doom and gloom.