(no subject)
i'm in a really good mood lately, so this is probably bad or something.
this morning, i woke up on this beach again; the snow was gone for the most part i guess, but i wasn't really looking for it anymore. there were probably patches of white beneath the shadows of certain houses, because some things never really want to melt. the ocean had melted, it was flowing back and forth again; cycles. but the water was still cold, and there was still this hidden memory like a fingerprint on the back of an eyelid. i'm still naked, and it's not good like freedom, but it's bad like being trapped in a dark room with a snake. i think i used to envy the sea, when it was motionless, but now i just want to dive in and rip it apart like a bedsheet.
i had told myself that she had driven away that morning, and i think she did; but it was a sad trip, and she was thinking the whole time about how she wanted to just let go of the wheel and fall asleep, and wake up somewhere else. i think about things like that a lot; i think that i'm sick and tired of life, but i know that everybody is sick and tired of something. so many people must have felt like this, but what does that do for me? am i supposed to feel like i'm not alone? that's a crock of fucking shit, and i think that most peoples' emotions are fake.
but now i guess i don't even think about the ocean that much. lately things have been pretty grounded; i'm starting things, i'm going back and listening to older music, and i'm feeling like maybe i won't ruin things this time. it's hard to build something up from the ground when you are so used to having something that is already four stories tall.
if time could stand still for just one minute, i would kiss you. i would kiss you until it meant nothing, or everything. it's hard to tell what everything means when time stops. usually you have to wait until time catches back up before you can figure out what to do.
this morning, i woke up on this beach again; the snow was gone for the most part i guess, but i wasn't really looking for it anymore. there were probably patches of white beneath the shadows of certain houses, because some things never really want to melt. the ocean had melted, it was flowing back and forth again; cycles. but the water was still cold, and there was still this hidden memory like a fingerprint on the back of an eyelid. i'm still naked, and it's not good like freedom, but it's bad like being trapped in a dark room with a snake. i think i used to envy the sea, when it was motionless, but now i just want to dive in and rip it apart like a bedsheet.
i had told myself that she had driven away that morning, and i think she did; but it was a sad trip, and she was thinking the whole time about how she wanted to just let go of the wheel and fall asleep, and wake up somewhere else. i think about things like that a lot; i think that i'm sick and tired of life, but i know that everybody is sick and tired of something. so many people must have felt like this, but what does that do for me? am i supposed to feel like i'm not alone? that's a crock of fucking shit, and i think that most peoples' emotions are fake.
but now i guess i don't even think about the ocean that much. lately things have been pretty grounded; i'm starting things, i'm going back and listening to older music, and i'm feeling like maybe i won't ruin things this time. it's hard to build something up from the ground when you are so used to having something that is already four stories tall.
if time could stand still for just one minute, i would kiss you. i would kiss you until it meant nothing, or everything. it's hard to tell what everything means when time stops. usually you have to wait until time catches back up before you can figure out what to do.