cowboy cookies . . .
i have entered the realm of seclusion . . . since monday, i have been completely done with dealing with other peoples inaccuracies and insecurities . . . or evennnnnnnnnn, im done with my own in collaboration with theirs . . . im fucking tired . . . and more than that im just tired . . . its like - i was out too much . . . i know when i feel bad i should just go home . . . but as it turns out - i didnt . . . and instead it was one of THE worst days ive had . . . ever . . . i dont want a repeat any time soon . . . i mean from time to time is okay, because then it reminds me that i need to not be out . . . but often is wayyyyyyyyyy too much . . . taxing on the soul if you will . . .
heres why fall sucks for me and maybe others as well . . . i dont know . . . i love it because the leaves change and its jusssssssssssssst cold enough to wear a small coat and to feel better when youre cuddling . . . (small and french) . . . and now comes the romanticized dillusion - i love to think about fall and how great it would be with anyone else, and thennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn . . . and then i remember that every fucking single fucking fall - ive been all by myself . . . now, this "grace period", if you will, usually lasts until mid december or january . . . but it hasnt failed . . . every fall . . . a l o n e . . . the only commonplace i hold in my life . . . the only tradition i can manage to keep up with to date . . .
man oh man . . . its not that i want it all . . . its not that i want everything . . . and for christs sake, its not because im "so fucking demanding", like some people like to say . . . but its just because it seems like i should be able to mix my love of fall with love . . . not holding my breath for that, asphyxiation seems like an unpleasant end . . . id rather be holding hands anyways . . .
and on another note . . . well i guess the same note, really . . . i have a date on saturday . . . oh yes . . . dating . . . weird . . . a safe lunch . . . the safety lunch . . . oh the safety lunch . . . more stress to add to my week . . . just what i need . . . actually, its just what i dont need . . . but sometimes you just kind of grow weary in waiting for people to come around like you think they should . . . it gets old . . .
other things . . . other things . . . what else . . . well, i had the noodle bar and some cowboy cookies for lunch . . . it was rather tasty and on that note - im heading out, as it appears to me there is no more to post nor comment about . . .
. . . over and ouch . . .
"i think you lost what you loved in that mess of details they seemed so important at the time but now you cant even recall any names faces or lines . . . its more the feeling of it all" . . . -bright eyes, an attempt to tip the scales . . .
heres why fall sucks for me and maybe others as well . . . i dont know . . . i love it because the leaves change and its jusssssssssssssst cold enough to wear a small coat and to feel better when youre cuddling . . . (small and french) . . . and now comes the romanticized dillusion - i love to think about fall and how great it would be with anyone else, and thennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn . . . and then i remember that every fucking single fucking fall - ive been all by myself . . . now, this "grace period", if you will, usually lasts until mid december or january . . . but it hasnt failed . . . every fall . . . a l o n e . . . the only commonplace i hold in my life . . . the only tradition i can manage to keep up with to date . . .
man oh man . . . its not that i want it all . . . its not that i want everything . . . and for christs sake, its not because im "so fucking demanding", like some people like to say . . . but its just because it seems like i should be able to mix my love of fall with love . . . not holding my breath for that, asphyxiation seems like an unpleasant end . . . id rather be holding hands anyways . . .
and on another note . . . well i guess the same note, really . . . i have a date on saturday . . . oh yes . . . dating . . . weird . . . a safe lunch . . . the safety lunch . . . oh the safety lunch . . . more stress to add to my week . . . just what i need . . . actually, its just what i dont need . . . but sometimes you just kind of grow weary in waiting for people to come around like you think they should . . . it gets old . . .
other things . . . other things . . . what else . . . well, i had the noodle bar and some cowboy cookies for lunch . . . it was rather tasty and on that note - im heading out, as it appears to me there is no more to post nor comment about . . .
. . . over and ouch . . .
"i think you lost what you loved in that mess of details they seemed so important at the time but now you cant even recall any names faces or lines . . . its more the feeling of it all" . . . -bright eyes, an attempt to tip the scales . . .