We are a lot like department stores
I don't know who is it.
Someday i will stop writing little bulletins into the ethers. Someday i will give it up.
There come the thrashers.
I met a girl in Seattle. We have everything in common. We saw each other for four days and then the last two made me feel like there were pulsars inside my chest. I came back east and immediately decided to spend the rest of the summer out west. I was feeling invigorated, like i was falling in, yeah. But. There have been emails. And i read between the lines. The lines that say she is still dating, i mean. And it seems like, despite appearances from 1.5 weeks ago, she is not quite feeling the same way. She did not have pulsars in her chest, i don't think. Not like i did. So it goes.
I still am going west? I am planning to leave today. I have a tent and a suitcase full of paperback books. I have a little LED lantern. I have two or more months off. I am going to Montana. I will probably go to Seattle. I don't know what I am doing. Someday i will lose my grip that keep all of these pieces into the one human being. I have a sleeping bag and it is good down to 40 degrees.
I am rooted to the ground.
It should be written. Until recently (and maybe still) i had felt like a dirtbag since Victoria Day 2007. That is the day that i made myself sit down face to face with Liz and try to tell her i could not be her boyfriend anymore, despite never having a fevered word or an ill feeling come between us, in nine full months, just because i felt emotionally absent and did not feel what i should have been feeling. I could not look her in her eyes, i stared at her kitchen floor and glanced up only a couple times and didn't do it very well. She got over me within a month but i found it hard to live with myself for about a year and more.
I need no justice. I know i will never do something like that again, because i cannot.
I am tired of writing about less than happy things and about evanescent girls and such. I truly am. But i am short on other material, is the thing.
Oh, except then there is Facebook. A lot of people added me on Facebook last week. Including Renee. Renee is my first girlfriend. The first one, we were primordial romantics. Or teenagers. We were together for three years in the most tumultuous sorts of times. Now Renee has a husband and a little baby boy and she wishes me well. I am happy for Renee and i am glad we were together when we were, despite being so different. It was nice to know that she still remembers me. I like when people remember me and wish me well.
My guitar is out. I have not packed it into the car yet. It has a fresh sticky note that says "I still haven't heard Stairway to Heaven yet?". But my dad listens to 96.9 and 107.1 a lot so i know that he is lying.
Someday i will stop writing little bulletins into the ethers. Someday i will give it up.
There come the thrashers.
I met a girl in Seattle. We have everything in common. We saw each other for four days and then the last two made me feel like there were pulsars inside my chest. I came back east and immediately decided to spend the rest of the summer out west. I was feeling invigorated, like i was falling in, yeah. But. There have been emails. And i read between the lines. The lines that say she is still dating, i mean. And it seems like, despite appearances from 1.5 weeks ago, she is not quite feeling the same way. She did not have pulsars in her chest, i don't think. Not like i did. So it goes.
I still am going west? I am planning to leave today. I have a tent and a suitcase full of paperback books. I have a little LED lantern. I have two or more months off. I am going to Montana. I will probably go to Seattle. I don't know what I am doing. Someday i will lose my grip that keep all of these pieces into the one human being. I have a sleeping bag and it is good down to 40 degrees.
I am rooted to the ground.
It should be written. Until recently (and maybe still) i had felt like a dirtbag since Victoria Day 2007. That is the day that i made myself sit down face to face with Liz and try to tell her i could not be her boyfriend anymore, despite never having a fevered word or an ill feeling come between us, in nine full months, just because i felt emotionally absent and did not feel what i should have been feeling. I could not look her in her eyes, i stared at her kitchen floor and glanced up only a couple times and didn't do it very well. She got over me within a month but i found it hard to live with myself for about a year and more.
I need no justice. I know i will never do something like that again, because i cannot.
I am tired of writing about less than happy things and about evanescent girls and such. I truly am. But i am short on other material, is the thing.
Oh, except then there is Facebook. A lot of people added me on Facebook last week. Including Renee. Renee is my first girlfriend. The first one, we were primordial romantics. Or teenagers. We were together for three years in the most tumultuous sorts of times. Now Renee has a husband and a little baby boy and she wishes me well. I am happy for Renee and i am glad we were together when we were, despite being so different. It was nice to know that she still remembers me. I like when people remember me and wish me well.
My guitar is out. I have not packed it into the car yet. It has a fresh sticky note that says "I still haven't heard Stairway to Heaven yet?". But my dad listens to 96.9 and 107.1 a lot so i know that he is lying.