"she's gone, she's gone across the border, man, and you're never gonna see her again."
it's a Minus the Bear lyrics, and a good one at that, haunting, catching and otherwise part of a good song, but until recently it hadn't sunk into me until it was flesh out.
last night i stared you down as you said things had changed, we'd lost some of that glamour, the illusion of perfection (or as close as we get to it) that we had carried up to that point. things had been weird, in a funk, for a while and on top of my assumptions, my stupid over reacting and disgusting you with what i thought to be a mildly harmless playful joke; it had culminated to a point where you were pushing my buttons to get a rise out of me. after the tone calmed, your worries and words were heavy. our thoughts of forever were tainted and botched despite our unyielded yammering, like we had been hopeless teenagers the days and weeks before. talking and asking if you still wanted to be with me, about breaking up, had only succeeded in further sinking the hope-boat.
but, of course, that's how it hit the air around us, i don't know which way it hit you and processed through your grey matter, but i'd like to spill my mind about it.
nothing has changed for me, this much i've told you. sure, we've been in an awkward way with a handful of moments, but i still only see (and saw that night) the woman i am head over heels in love with. i tried to made that much apparent, too. i did the best i could to reassure you that i wasn't even thinking about leaving, i just wanted to know where you stood. i needed some reassurance, too. i'll never entertain the though of leaving, and i don't want to think about the rest of my natural life without you (which does scare me, but i'm okay with it), but i'm not gonna try and control you and keep you locked into something that you don't want if you're sacrificing to make me happy b/c you care about me. if i have to sacrifice something, anything, just so you end up happy, then that's something i'll have to be okay with. it's the only reason i brought up the subject. if there was anything i knew to do to erase your worry about where could lie, i wouldn't hesitate for the life of me. and i want you to know, and believe, that i'm here, in it for the old and grey. i want to see what the rest of your life is like, just like mine. i don't know how exactly to express that. i would sift through all the troubles and repulsive shit in the world just to have the chance to do my best ot make you happy every single day. but i am paranoid, which i feel stupid about, but i always expect the worst in anything. it's not something i dwell on, but it does come to mind from time to time, i just don't expect for someone as magnificently spectacular as you to grow old with some cynical dickhole like me, i'm lucky that you've stayed around as long as you have, and made me the happiest guy in the world every single second i think about you. and despite you saying that you felt better last night, not a 100% - but a little bit, you were still distant, and thinking.
then there's the present day, where i've become scared and disheartened though i try not to show it in the slightest. i'm doing my best to pave over the cracks and bring everything back to okay again, but i feel like i'm doing it in vain. all the things i sent telling you that i love you and how amazing you are were ignored, while the rest were responded to quite quickly. now i'm worried that i've done something to make us the same as every relationship that's failed you, and now you're just trying to figure out the words you'll leave me with. it's the first day since we let go of our bitten lips that you haven't said that you loved me. maybe i should just man up, ignore all and anything that isn't elation or good, but that's me. it's not the person i am, nor the person that i've been the whole time with you. you don't have to be the man in the relationship, just be part of it. i'll have my moments, or days, but i'll fight like hell to make sure you're as happy as i can make you. and i don't enjoy the dips or ruts, but i know they're only temporary and i would suffer worse just to get a look into your eyes for a split second.
i don't know if i'm making sense anymore, or if i even have been, but i just wanted to get this out of me, and writing helps.
so i'll end on this, you are the most amazing person i've ever met. the kind of person i've been waiting to meet since i've believed in the stupid, yet wonderful concept of love. whatever walls i had up, whatever defenses has been hardwired into my scarred and scared mind didn't stand a chance. you are absolutely everything to me, and i will love you until i'm a cold dead meat bag, and i will prove that to you in any and every way i'm able.

i'll never be one to understand emotions, good or bad. they all seem to wear on you, and take pieces slowly away while they build you up or tear you down.

and i'm not a happy person by default. i could blame it on depression, but who's not depressed nowadays. seems like the doctors've got everyone on some sort of pill to make them happy or calm. i could blame it on anxiety and that shit, but let's face it, if i really needed to blame anything on that, i could only blame it on myself. i know chemicals can fuck your thoughts trains, but ultimately you choose how you're affected.

so now i'm here, just analyzing what a normal person would just take in stride and be happy to have to opportunity to feel something like this.

and i'm here feeling scared, like a paranoid person, and feeling so destructive inwards and out that i feel like i'm a stupid teenager again.

but i'm not screwing anything up, i see this happening, but i'm not trapped watching a bad movie that just gets worse. i'm behind the scenes and i know i can make it better. i know i can flesh this script out. i know what shots need to go where, and it's all on adlib. improv. that doesn't make any sense to anyone else but me, i guess. i'm just saying that nothing's rehearsed. it hasn't been, and i'm usually pretty good at following motions, but i'm not now. i just know how to stop the retarded part of my brain that doesn't believe in happiness, and doesn't believe anything lasts.

how can i put it bluntly... i know who i am, and what i do when things seem too good to be true. i get paranoid and build up these terrible scenarios in my mind that take me into another person that's more bitter and less trusting, for no reason but to save myself. i've got a weak and sick heart, everyone stays at arms length. no exceptions. not even my parents and friends have gotten close enough to really dig deep into me. this wall was build and barricade long ago, and for good reasons. so what would be the point in securing this fortress if i've go all willy-nilly and cave in on looking out for #1.

but now that there's a hole in my armor. now that my arms are next to me, and she's standing right there, i don't know how in the hell to handle this. i know where i am. i've dreamed about being here, despite my misleading words, and i'm not really afraid of screwing this up like i've done before. i'd feel something going down this road. over analyze. read off the results, and clam and pucker like an asshole. destroy it so sauvely and smile at the shattered pieces like my proudest piece of art.

however, i wasn't paying attention, and now i'm here. i've got the old knee jerk to tear it down, but i can't. which is a good thing. i've got no means to sabotage my emotions, or self destruct them. i'm finally in a good place with my idle hands at my side staring into deep green oceans. i'm happy. i'm warm. i'm excited. i'm where i've always wanted to be.

and yet...

there's this fear coming up behind my face. taunting me like a school yard bully. egging on my paranoia. telling me i'm going to fail. my heart will be torn from my chest and dashed against splintery shards of poison and malice, and all that other over dramatic bullshit to illustrate how devastated i'm gonna be when she decides i'm not all that. i'm not anything special. i'm not the one. (not that the last part is anything anyone's ever even sure of to begin with, let alone in the apex of a successful relationship). so anything i'm feeling, i lock inside some desolate cell deep down inside of me.

i thought i figured out a long time ago that letting things out was way healthier, and way less stressful. i also thought i could convince myself that certain feelings don't exist. hell, while i'm at it, i also thought now one could get to me, or plain get me. the jokes. the awkward acts. the laid back carelessness, and whatevs. it was good enough to defend against every single other person. but its some other sort of paralyzed i get when i'm looking into those pupils. like this something reaches into me and touches something inside, like a switch, that does more things i've never known words for. and it causes me to choke on my words, so i say only what i know i can say, but they don't scratch the surface of what's really there. i want to explode and let her roll around my insides like a soothsayer to see some divine message that the old gods wrote inside of me, for her eyes only. i want to let go, accept the consequences of what this is, if i ever have to, and live. finally live like i've wanted to live. like the movies. i know the movies are fantasy and lies, but it feels tangible. i feels so real that it hurts to hold back.

and here i am, blogging about it. pretending it's nothing big, face to face. but screaming in my head about the little details.

i know what it is. i couldn't tell you why, but that means so much more to me than a laundry list. that's how i know it's real. that's how i know i'm not just faking it to lie to myself. that's how i know she's different. that's just how i know.

and i'm still too chickenshit to do anything about it.

you seriously have no idea how close it all comes to spilling out of me every second. how much i can't to hold on to keep my rationality, keep my head on straight. i want to scream it out so everyone knows, but it's always just stuck in my chest. i'm wondering if i'll ever get the balls to let it out...i'll prolly just be drunk when it happens.

these chemicals are fucking suffocating! how can i say what needs to be said when the words are hard to find...?

just letting you know, it ain't easy being me sometimes.

is it that i'm thinking inward too much? is it that i'm afraid of screwing things up? is it the heavy doubt inside of me that i don't have the strength to be happy?

any time i feel jealous about something, i feel stupid. like no matter what, it's not an emotions i should feel, ever. i know its human nature to feel it, but that doesn't make it okay to me. at least me feeling jealous for any reason. and it's not that i'm uber jealous, or going crazy with jealousy in my head. it's just a pang in my stomach, like sour milk, and quickly fades away. but i worry. not that i'll flip my shit, just that i feel it. but that's not the most of it. i'm worried of possibilities. not warranted, mind you, it's just that inkling of paranoia that sometimes gets into my head and won't stop rambling away.

i worry because i really like her, like whoa. i worry because i've never been this far in, never let myself go like this. i like to be safe, arm's length. pick up the pieces that hurt from there. it's not that i don't have the confidence, and that i don't believe in being the right person at the right time this time. i'm just worried about having a bad day. and not a bad day where i let something stupid get the best of me, and flip out over something infinitely unimportant, but a bad day in which these pieces left are all shatter parts of the mirror that used to be whole, each and every shard screaming 'i told you so, you fool.' a bad day that let's everything get to me, and i eat it down until my stomach's bursting. a bad day where i'm this glutton for raw emotions that i haven't let myself feel, the good and the bad all turned up in a sushi roll.

let me put it like this. i've been a bastard before, and i don't like the person i was. i'm not afraid of being that person. but i've afraid of coming off like that person. i know it's normal to feel jealous, i know it's normal to be nervous and scared and all these things all at once. it's normal to feel and be alive. the important thing is how you choose to let those things affect you. you always have a choice, whether you like to think otherwise. and i feel like i'm uber sensitive, i either feel something full blast or not at all. i'm numb or on fire. i'm crazy or apathetic. and having these things suddenly gush up inside of me causing a panic, and a couple of things might come out, even with the filter on.

god dammit, i feel like i'm losing the meaning in all of this. let me just put it straight. i get jealous about stupid, and sometimes things that i feel are valid, shit. it's normal. i don't let it effect or affect anything. i stamp it out. it's just that i feel stupid for feeling it at all. i feel like a crazy idiot b/c i'm over compensating for trying to not be jealous. and feeling jealous makes me feel like i'm being controlling. i've actually thought about it a bit, and i've not really been controlling, i've expected things from a person that didn't deliver and got upset when they didn't. i don't find that controlling. i find that logical. but when it all piles up, you lose context, and other things come up, and you become uber pissed, mixed with jealous. ah, i'm starting to understand a bit more just by typing this out. and really thinking it over. i feel better now.

so this is the last paragraph, promise. and let me note right now, this is my jarbled mind and backward processed. i get jealous sometimes, big woop. i don't let it control me or get to me. i'm not controlling, and i'm pretty sure i haven't been. it just took a few paragraphs of confused thought to figure it out.

i feel the need to be cryptic and misread. but i don't have anything much to say that isn't already known. and it's not like enough people really read this to have fun with being cryptic.

interesting conversations in the AM at night. i kind've feel like a whore, it's just weird how when the things happen, they happen. no thought. then years later, you look back and sum it up in five minutes, and bam, you're definitely easy, and a bit more frisky than you thought, or would like to sound. but oh well, i've lived my life this long without many regrets, and i kinda dig the guy i am.

the only thing i hate (using the word loosely, of course) is re-evaluating myself, but not so much my personality, but certain things that i've tried so hard to believe in. i used to be a crutch person, taking up jesus and all his grandizing glory, but i wanted to stand on my own. now i'm falling back on thinking about fate, and love. i wanna say it's all bullshit propaganda built up by the human condition, but i'm also an avid fan of the human conidition, no matter how bad it blows on a usually daily and yearly basis. i also feel like i'm the boy i used to be again, not to say that i'm feeling young and naive, but i care more now. the nihilistic cynicism is just becoming this partially hollow act i'm repeating b/c i think it's funny. i'm losing my anchor and falling...into...this.

and, i mean, how do i sound genuine? that's something i've always wanted to know. how is someone gonna know when i actually mean something, i know when i do. i can usually tell when i look into someone's eyes whether they're lying or not, but then there's also the wanting to believe what they're saying factor, which has dug a deep ditch for me before. but regardless, i believe those words that she says. every bit. there's this tug in me that's screaming to be realistic, but then there's that other part that doesn't give a damn, this is a different level altogether and fuck being realistic, this feels so real and so surreal at the same time. i catch myself smiling through random parts of the day when i think over her. and there's too much i can't explain about it. for all intents and purposes this should be nothing new, but it is. and i can't just sit here and say, 'i've never felt this before.' it's trite and no one would believe me, despite it being true. i've literally had the best week of my life, even through the work stress and shelved personal dilemmas and problems...it's weird. and now the biggest thing occupying my mind is how do i let her know that i'm not just regurgitating everything i say. i want that she could look into me and know, blood to bones, that i've never been more honest and sincere than in those moments when i actually can find something to say, albeit a poor fraction of what's sitting behind it.

i didn't always have my back turned to the idea of love. it's another defense mechanism. if it doesn't exist in my world, i can't fall into it, and i definitely can't get hurt. hurt without love was bad enough. rejection from mild infatuation, i couldn't imagine a feeling that hurt worse, but now i'm beginning to understand a few things i shut myself off to, and while it scares the piss out've me, it's exciting. and i hate to admit that i am truly falling for someone. this is a means i can't control, and as worried and scared as i should be, i'm not. i don't know how to explain it, and i feel like i'm just mucking up the cogs in me by trying to stick words all over it, labeled and filed. but it's so much more wonderul than that.

so here's one for the feelings board:

i'm really nervous b/c i don't know if i've gotten in over my head, but let me explain. i've gotten attached fast, which i'm sure it pretty obvious at this point. but i don't really know how to deal with that. i feel like some retarded middle school kid that's just got his first girlfriend. i'm always nervous, and i'm always worried and really insecure about a lot of things, but just when i'm alone. around you it's different. i don't care about anything else, and i lose a lot of anxiety. i don't know really how to explain it. you make me feel important, and like things are really worth it, putting up with the shit just to get to where i need to go.

maybe things are just finally tumbling into place and i'm worried that all the good that's built up will come down and sudden crash with debris and dust and chemicals. i need to learn to not worry. i trust you, wholly, which could prove to be good or bad. i'm hoping for good, but i always expect the worst from everything. you do that, and you can't get too hurt or too disappointed. i mean, in theory it's a good idea so you're never caught off guard, but it never really proves true.

also, another thing i wanted to say. the sex, while it is great, consistently, i just want you to know it's not all i want or all i think about, but it's really difficult to pump the brakes onces everything starts. there's a lot i want to be able to explain, but i can't ever find the fucking words, and that frustrates me. i really immensely enjoy the sex, but even moreso i really just enjoy you, being around you and everything that entails. i'd sit in the shittiest bar, or watch any movie as long as you were there. and who knows, i might even enjoy a few things if i just give them a chance.

god dammit, i really hate that i'm saying all this stuff. i mean, i guess it's a step in opening up, letting all my guard drop, slowly, but i have to do it in a blog. i mean, seriously, i used to be able to just say what i wanted, just let it fall out've my mouth and that was that, but i can't. not with you. i don't know if it's the words that i just don't know to say, or that i feel like i'm ranting, and i don't wanna bore you with any of that stupid pretense, especially my feelings or emotions. i guess i feel like i'd talk too much, and ruin everything. after all, i'm already the tainted girlfriend guy.

also, something to explain about that, the whole girlfriend guy thing. in my head it works like this. i like someone, we hang out, whatever happens, happens. now this could mean any number of things. but i always feel like it has to go up to the next level after some time. i can sit here and tell you that i'm not gonna be interested in someone else, that i'm gonna stick around, but those're all just words. by starting a labeled relationship, i guess, it's just my more tangible way of stepping up to that plate and being, like, hey i really mean what i say, and i want you to know it. and i don't mean to make it sound one-sided, b/c it says about the same to me, the whole 'hey, i like you enough to not fuck around with someone else and here's my way to prove it to you' i dunno, maybe i'm not making sense. but i haven't always dated any girl i've been with, or hung out with or whatever. i'm not exactly the girlfriend guy, but i have had a lot of girlfriends, however, we haven't exactly done the gauntlet run on talking about all the ex's in depth. honestly, it's not a conversation i'm sure i want to have. it's not the whole 'i'm jealous, i don't wanna talk about it, it'd make me sick to my stomach' it's more along the lines of 'you're here now, that's all that really matters' and if we ever have that conversation, i'm sure it'll be for a good reason.

alright, i'm losing my train of thought, sleepy as shit and everything, so it'd be better to stop before i start blending words with random hungry feelings and ideas into a big garbled orgy of sentences that run on too long.

so, bands on myspace have gotten smarter. sure, have a female member of your band, and have it seem like they're the ones that wanted to add the lowely guy on myspace. and while you're at it, appeal to their insecurity/vanity, whichever it may be. but at first make sure that said girl is a attractive in the broad sense.

so this is how it goes, "you are soooo cute. add us so i can comment on your pics."

nice try, but i really doubt that i'm 'sooooo' cute, i'd say possibly handsome in a very conventionally unconventional way... (think about that). so in so many words, and a blog, good effort, you definitely get a B- for creativity and inventiveness, but really, no thanks.

you ever get the feeling like you can't compare?

maybe it's not about comparisons, but just being who you are that makes it different and potentially greater, but also in a streamline of alternate aspects. the feeling of knots is unwarranted, and just a way of confusing myself. taking myself down a notch so i don't get too confident. i would hate to have an ego. the checks and balances already set up do well enough, but how they wreak their havocs some time.

you dig, you get dirty. so maybe memories aren't the best to go through. but i look at the shitty cobblestone path to here laid with my soft hands and i see so many eye sores. there's always gonna be eyes sores, i guess, just so long as you lay them better along the way.

there was this one time, when i was learning to drive, that my dad decided (b/c my mom was too nervous to ride with me and teach me how to drive) that i was ready to go through town. now this was after we purchased my first car, a chevy sprint (ironic since i work for sprint, no?) and it was a small bucket of death that would surely tumble over in medium wind. but the important point is that it was a manual, yes, stick shift, i know how to drive them. the current car i have now it the first automatic transmission i've had, and i absolutely hate it. anyway, there's a lot a first time driver has to adjust to when learning the rules of the road, such as correcting the path without over-correcting, being mindful of the other drivers and signals and lights and the such.

so at this particular point, i've done well enough, still nervous though, and me and my old man are sitting at a traffic light. now to explain something to you at first, manual's usually idle at about roughly 1000 RPMS or so (i could be wrong), anything below that could cause the car to stall (die) and be completely embarassing in traffic. my special little death cab did not idle at this area, instead, i had to rev the engine to make sure it stayed alive. not to mention how touchy the clutch was before my dad gave it once or twice through with his mechanical prowess. so i also had that working against me.

needless to say, when the light turned green, myself and my car held up the flow of traffic. but it was easily corrected, and i restarted the car and went on my way, which honestly covered the span of half a minute, if that. now during this time, as soon as i didn't move or flitch at the first pop of the green light, a mustang behind me blew it's horn. and this of course, pressed my nerves harder, since my palms were already oceans of uncertainty. my dad let out a sigh and set, "Don't worry about them, I've got it."

i started the car, the engine turns over, and all's fine. but during this time, my dad, the randomly street enraged guerilla he can be, clammers toward the back window. and i couldn't think what for. so as the engine clanks and (well, what i have no better turn for) purrs, i looke back to see what my father's doing, and the old man's showing the girl in the mustang a rigged, threatening finger. i smiled to myself (because, let's face it. that dumb bitch did deserve it), and he sinks back into his seat. pressing the shitty shocks of the car.

the mustang follows us into a parking lot, while my dad's still brewing over the whole incedent. and parks far off from us (apparently ms. mustang and me and my dad were all going to the same place). and he looks like he's gonna accompany his finger with a few words. which, is kinda scary, b/c my old man can get pretty intimidating. but he doesn't say anything, and probably for the best b/c i'm sure the bird tweeted all she really needed to know. it didn't stop him from talking about how much of a cunt she was, and how i shouldn't worry about it. (not that he really used the word cunt).

so there's a random story.
i miss the asshole sometimes when i stop to think about it, and i hate that i'm not more like him.

i've got 3OH!3 stuck in my head, but it really has nothing to do with this, or anything else. just thought i'd throw that out there.

how can i say what i'm thinking? i feel like in order to really expose myself to you, completely un-pensive and not anxious that i have to be drunk. not that there's much to tell. i'm pretty sure you get the gist of it.

you seem really hurt and hung up on the fact that you think i think you're a party girl. now let me ret-con some stuff here, do i technically think you are a boy-crazy party girl? no. do i think you go out frequently, and drink, therefore in other terms called party? yes. so, you may not be a party girl, but you do go out a lot, and drink frequently, and sometimes become a hot mess. plus, a lot of the stories we trade are, 'well, i was out with...' or 'i was really drunk and...' so i'm not totally making up something completely unfounded. but i'm not one to judge, either. i've traded those stories as well, and i've got that vibe about me that i'm easy to get in bed and probably really more fickle that i like to seem. not to mention the stories that i'm sure are floating out there to the caliber of my character. so, i guess we're in the same boat here...maybe.

so let me tell you about what i get about who you are. i don't think you're a party girl, and i feel the need to emphasize that now. i just think you like to go out and have a good time, which sometimes ends up in hangovers and things i don't wanna talk about. but it happens to everyone...well, most anyone that isn't all up in god's asshole. anyway. you can be really sweet, and unknowingly hurtful (but that last part may be me being a too sensitive), almost like a double-edged sword. you're inconceivably gorgeous, and have the prettiest eyes and smile that i've ever seen on a person. and you make me re-evaluate a lot of things that i've held to just to be trite and seem so unaffected by life in general. you say you've never had a broken heart, just like i say i don't believe in love or fate or destiny, but i'm sure there's a little more to that story. and you also say that you'll hurt me, which i can believe (not that i care at this point), but i don't think you'd hurt anybody out of malice or spite or inconsideration, however any time i bring it up, there's just this look i can't decipher. i believe you'd do it to keep that title of never having a broken heart, and understandably so. if i'd gone this long and could say the same, i'd make sure that no one ever got to me before i could cut it off at the head. but i do think, and feel, that you are this amazing person once you open the flood gates and everything comes pouring out. i've seen it piece by piece, and i'm enamored by every moment of it. and i'm really hoping one day that it all comes, good and bad alike when you're ready for it and you think i'm the guy to hear it all.

i'm not trying to figure you out and label you, i want you to know that. and i can be very contradictory and just flat out stupid and naive about things. i can't say this is new, but it's never been this difficult. it's never been this hard for me to articulate even generic words. i feel like any word that'd come out of my mouth is stupid and pointless, b/c i can't conjure up a sentence for how i feel, or the way i look at you. i can't, even though i try, and horribly fail. i just wanna be around for the good and bad, as long as you want me to be around for the good and bad, and the in-betweens. i'm trying to put myself out there, more and more. and i don't know how i'm doing.

i just get to thinking a lot lately, like i haven't thought in a long time. and not the over-thinking way that i usually do. i guess, like the broad type. life and the universe and everything else in the cracks. it's nice to feel awake again. so i don't know if i should thank you for that, or if it's just a period in my life that it's happening...but there it is, anyway.

awkward moment of the day:

i'm going to do my laundry, and the only four washers open, side by side, are toward the back. so i mosey on to the rear of the laundrymat, and pass this dueschey lookin' guy (i'm an asshole, i know). and some bitch-faced girl is sitting at the back table, looking like she's texting away on her phone. the guy that passed me is unloading a washer across from me when the girl says, "So who's this fucking bitch?"

the dude's eyes go bulging and he starts denying, "iunno, just some random girl" blah blah blah.

so then the bitchface continues to go on and on and on, something about a russian girl the guy got a lapdance from and woke up next to in the morning. and she was very unhappy to say the least. throwing out, "you're so fucking stupid." and "that's how you get AIDS, sleeping with a stripper." and just talking and talking and bitching and moaning. probably understandbly so.

anyway, the whole time this dueschebag puts on this piss poor denial about "no" this, and "iunno" that. just taking the heat. and making it the most fucking awkward time i've ever loaded my dirty underwear into the washer. the worst part was i knew she wanted to drag me into it, to make him feel like a dueschebag even more. every time he'd walk off to get change, or this or that, she was eye fucking me for an excuse to use the free, "hey, you fucked a nasty stripper, how could i do worse?" card. then the guy'd come back around and she'd just pick up where the griping left off.

now, this is the best part. this guy is just taking everything, denying but not fighting hard at all. even being degrading in front of another dude. but i guess he gets his fill, and deturs her spectacularly by saying, "You're right, those shoes look really nice."

now, the unstoppable freight train of jealous spite filled venom screeches to a dead silence hault, and she replies, "Thank you," all bubbly of course, "I told you they were cute when I bought 'em earlier today."

and like this neanderthal was some fucking magic weilding god of mischeif and fucking thought trains. she started gabbing about shopping all day the day before, and how much fun it was.

i wanted to stand slack-jawed, wide-eyed, but i didn't. i just kept loading my laundry, and ignoring them. until they eventually left. thankfully, right after i started the washers.

so yeah, bitches, man, bitches. i just really don't understand how people can really be that inconsiderate, on both ends, you know, pursuing a fight in public in front of a complete stranger, and whatever that asshole was up to to put him in that situation. but most of all, i could see why he did it, b/c he got away with it with such little effort. but that does just make me think, what's the point? why stay with someone if you're gonna go somewhere else for what you already have. i've never understood the point in infidelity, sober or otherwise. i'm 24 years old and never once have i cheated on anyone i've dated or had feelings for, etc. it's really just as simple as, 'hey, i'm not into you anymore, so rather than do something completely devastating and fuck some other girl in the passenger seat that you're sitting in when you thought i was hanging out with my friends, i'll just go ahead and tell you, i don't think i'm in this anymore.' sure it'll hurt like hell, and probably be harder to get over without the anger, but guess what. that's what honest people do, and honest people are awesome in my book.

i dunno, i guess i'm just old fashioned at heart, i believe in chivalry (which apparently is dead), and just trying to be a gentleman and considerate of, at least, that one person's feelings. but i'm also the guy that starts to like someone, and shuts off the attraction to anyone else. i mean, sure, i hold up the 'oh, she's hot.' when i'm out with my friends, but i doubt they'd wanna hear, 'eh, i know someone hotter, and she likes me already.' maybe i'm just weird. i mean, i do feel out've place because one night stands make me sick to my stomach, so i have to convince myself that i really like the person...really. i mean, i don't give a shit what other people do, it's just me. like i've got some odd 1950's moral compass poorly ticking in my brain, and i try to make up with it by overacting like some calloused promiscuous asshole. why do humans have to be so god damned complicated? and this isn't even getting on the outside, although, jesus - if i did, the rants i could go on with...for hours and hours. it'd feel good though, like i was thinking like a philosopher. haven't done that it a while. but yeah, anyway, inside me, i'm complicated although i try to dumb it down as much, saying really stupid shit all the time, cutting myself off before i get on a tangent that could potentially maybe make me seem insightful.

i guess i'm just realizing how much i distance myself from everybody and don't even think about it, so it's like it isn't happening. they do get those windows, but it sucks to wake up in the morning and realize that no one really knows you, not for their lack of trying, but they're still in the dark. it comes with the experience it seems. the longer i live, the more i shut people out. and i think it's an unconscious reaction to being hurt so much, so frequently.

wow, i just realized that this is a fuckload of writing, and on a blog, god. and not only that, i turned a mildly funny story into emo time. nice. well, how about let's go have a wonderful day...laundry's just about done. think i'll get some ice cream and take the rest of the day off from thinking.

let's cross the ocean and get some culture

this feeling

so pensive

so hopeful

is shaking me

or I'm shaking in it

I get lost in those eyes

I get lost on those hands

I get lost in that smile

and it's all worth it

the stupid words floating in my head

jumbling and garbling and making me think

I don't need to think

the swelling in my chest

like gusts of strong wind

that would take a small child of its feet

and I am off my feet

I'm scared

I'm happy

I'm scared

I'm happy

I'm frightened

I'm terrified of you

but I'll manage

just so I can look in those green eyes

give me something to take the edge off

maybe another hit on the lips

I haven't been awake in a long time

and I've never been any place like this

what do you do when you wake up and you're not exactly how you were before?

guess my armors just falling off, and it makes for bad rants where i try to be both sides. put up the strong and the hopeful and end up sound like a mess of fevered words.

eventually, i'll get it right, i guess.

i'm done putting up a wall that just falls down piece by piece. you've got me at that. i'm still scared as hell, but i'm done being paranoid.

time to write some inspiring poetry and see if it pays off...literally.

i don't have anything figured out, ever. i just put my worst fears out there, and get 'em back in return.

it's like every time i get airy and floaty, thinking i'm gonna be happy, that kite string pops and puts me back in my place.

i'm just an ignorant kid who's more clueless that he thought.
expect the worst, and nothing bad will really ever happen to you...at least i used to kind've believe in that. now it's just expect the worst, and you won't be surprised when it happens, kid, but it'll still hurt like hell. it'll always hurt like hell.

in short, i'm trying to protect what little of me, truly me, is left. and i'm finding it really god damn hard to not drown here. i want to swim in you and know everything, but i always get the feeling like i'm cursed, like i'm dipping my fingers in for a reason, b/c i can't feel the cement around me until i fall in. and i'm not trying to say that you're this awful person, but you can't say that i haven't been set up from day one to not be on my guard. 'you seem like a good person, and i don't want to hurt you.' them's the words burdening my fears, and my fears have got long fingers deep in my skull and in my chest. and they're looking for a reason to twist. and kill that old pipe smokin', bathrobe wearin' bastard in me. but he's lived this long, just give me a reason to believe in him...

i need to stop being so pessimistic. it'll ruin things.

i'm pretty certain at this point in time that no one reads this. and thank god. at least there's some place that i can feel like i'm being open and heart on sleeve without really doing it. come to think of it, i feel like i wear my heart on my sleeve, even though i am pretty reserved...unless i start acting crazy. b/c i'm pretty much stuck in my head all day, thinking my thoughts and i feel like everyone can tell just by the expressions that cross my face. i've never really felt like i was really particularly closed off, but i'm beginning to see that if you don't say it aloud and tell someone...you're pretty much closed up. but i don't know, i just don't like to rant anymore, it was all good fun when i was younger, b/c i could be angry and cynical without feeling like some old crazy bastard, but now it's like i'm old enough that i should know better, or just do something about it instead of bitching and moaning. that's why i'm getting my life in order. this year, i'm getting something published, by god, and i'm gonna get paid to write. i'm tired of sitting on my stories and writing and writing and never really doing anything with it. so that's check one.

also, for a tangent, and not to get too stuck on my self improvements, i've realized a thing or two about you, well me and you and i don't know what to do about it. i'm pretty sure i'm the one that's gonna get hurt out of the deal. b/c frankly, i don't know what you see in me. i'm just waiting for the hammer to fall. but until then, i'm so enjoying your company, and you're not really my type, which is awesome. i dunno, it's hard to really explain. i mean, i could try, i've got the time right now, but it seems all in vain. like i'm gonna go through all this long list of wow's and wonderful's and it's just gonna be wasted b/c you'll wake up in a couple of days and realize i'm a waste of time, when there's definitely more attractive and interesting people out there than me.

wow, i went from self improvement to self depricating (is that even really a word), anyway. let's just go ahead and open this vein b/c my head's hurting thinking about it.

i am absolutely nuts about you. who you are. how you are. the smells. the looks. the feels. and how you make me feel when i'm around you. and i hate it b/c you affect me. already. so soon and i'm wrapped around you like the red stripe on a white candy cane. it makes me sick to really think about, b/c i'm sure this is all just good and fun to you. i'm someone to hold you, and cuddle and tell you sweet things that are obviously nice to hear, no matter how much someone says them. but eventually, i'll be old news, like an outdated tabloid blowing off in the next wind. but me, what do i want. you. just as long as you figure to stay around. now here's the part that i want to say that i could make promises and oodles of fucking nice secure words, but i can't. i'm not a bad person, but i'm not a good person either, and i've got my own problems. i like you, and i'm letting myself fall for you, despite all the fibers in me that pull against it. i know you're gonna chew me up and spit me out b/c that's what you put out there - careless party girl - WHOO!, but deep inside, there's that hopeless romantic asshole that's just sitting there with his pipe, in a bathrobe reading shakespeare and fucking laughing, saying, "Yes, yes...go for it, m'boy! You'll never get another chance like this!" and it's that hopelessly romantic bastard that's gonna lead me straight to hell. i want to sit here and tell you that you'd be the first person i've cared about, and the first to affect me in this way, but you're not. like you said, i'm tainted. i've lived a stupid life of floating from one heartbreak to the next (not always mine, mind you) and i've become this used shell that's just waiting to be filled. how'd you put it? oh yeah, a robot that wants to be something other than metal. that's pretty much me, you nailed it. i want to tell you that i can give you all the things that you want, and the best anyone could ever promise. but that's not me. what i can tell you, and promise, is that i'd do my damnest to make you happy every chance i got, and i'd stick around as long as i was wanted/needed. i'm pretty good at that when i need to be. i want to say that i'd never get tired of you, wake up every day and stare in your eyes and know it's where i need to be, but i can't. i can say that i'll never wake up one day and not be there, i won't wake up one day and automatically want someone else. i know myself well enough to tell when things are deflating, and heading down that road. and if you still wanted me around, i'd work at it. but i know this isn't what you want, which is why i know i'm gonna be the one broken to pieces when the tweets and texts stop.

and now saying all this, i realize how vulnerable i've made myself, how uninteresting and boring i've just become. no one likes the safe bet that's gonna tuck you in and kiss you on the forehead when you're feeling down. they want that exciting person that'll carry them away on some fantasy until the day ends, and the night only gets better. i'm not that person. i'm real. i'm here. do what you will and kick me to the curb, i'll live. and five years from now, i'll still be the same person b/c it's who i am. not starved for love, hell - i'm pretty sure it's just a naive idea, but not completely closed off no matter how much it hurts, over and over. i'm that idiot. full of stupid hope, and a little luck that never really goes anywhere. hopefully, though, one day it will. i'm that guy that no one wants to be, b/c deep down under the cynicism and anger and stupid jokes, i'm soft. i'm pretty sure most people know that, but i've never admitted it to anyone. that's that. plain and fucking simple, whitey.

man...i've really just lit up the page with words. sorry. hope i'm not wasting anyone's time here just rambling on like a five year old that just found out about being able to stand up and pee anywhere he wants. pretty amazing stuff, no?

...and my head keeps spinning. but in a good way.

you never look 'em in the eyes. they'll melt away your armor and takes pieces of you with their smiles

there's too much thinking going on in my head, and too much feeling going on in my chest. so i block it all out, and it still tunes me in. questions, so many questions b/c of so many thoughts, and it's all real fast like a pop line of fire crackers popping a million times a second.

i wanna sit here and there and talk about what i feel, but what does it matter? it doesn't effect much else, and what if there was a truth in those first defensive words? i'm just throwing down the armor like losing a bulletproof vest in a fire fight. but yeah, like i said, just too many thoughts running through my head over and over. over thinking is a specialty of mine by now. and getting over it takes a little work, but all'll be fine as rain when the dreams go away in the morning.

so for a lighter conclusion. i'm probably the luckiest white boy this side of the milky way.

god damn, i've got too many blog sites now, and i have to keep up with 'em.

son of a bitch, literally.

i kept waking up last night to make sure that i wasn't dreaming.

we stood staring up at the stars trying to figure out the constellations, when all i wanted to do was look into your eyes and find the ones in there.

"I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned."
-Iron & Wine (fuck Ben Gibbard, I'm not giving him credit for this shit, he's got tons of other stuff...trust me)

i can't stand how my bed doesn't smell like me right now. it makes me feel like i can't sleep unless i stack the pillows higher and pretend...but i'm pretty good at make believe, at least for a while.

how your eyes betray your words, but those words were meant to be heard at a distance, yet you spoke them so close. like a puzzle wrapped in layers barely visible to the human eye, unless you dance in the right light, then one might catch a glimpse of something truly astounding and unique. last night that light danced briefly by you instead, and a couple layers faded away for only a moment, and in that then i saw your secrets, just a few, but i felt my mouth water at the temptation of more.

so what i mean to say is that when some people say that they're not interesting, they only mean to throw you off their trail. misdirection is clever, i'll admit it, and it has me stepping carefully. but when the ice gets thin i always wanna jump in. god, i'm rambling now. i guess it happens when there's literally no sleep to be had...i haven't felt this feeling in a long while.

"Today is not my day to find you"
-A-Ha

does anything ever happen?

how do you shake off that feeling of disappointment when you just wake up? it's not that i had anything to be disappointed about...i dunno, maybe i just need to chillax a bit more after having some drinks the night before and sleeping for six hours.

my dreams lately have been sofa king weird.

put me in your drink, girl, gimme a swirl.

as much as i thought it was something.
turns out i was just fickly fascinated by the dancing headlights.
at least that's what i heard through the spiderwebs.

god, when will lonely be enough?

what if we could suture the past to make a beautiful tapestry?

sometimes i wonder if my brain works right. b/c i don't know what it takes to be me for a day, but i'm pretty sure this train doesn't stop for many people.

man, i'm sure that just made me sound like a fucking schizo, ha ha. (p.s. i wasn't talking about being crazy, i was talking about being mentally retarded, assholes.)

and i know very well...

i meant to rant about this yesterday. but i forgot...happens when you work 13 hours shifts. warning: comic book rant.
anyway, the last issue of brit is finished and printed. and i'm utterly disappointed, i really thought kirkman was gonna take over writing it. but nay. they just put that old bastard back on the shelf. and honestly, they could've just cut wolf-man and kept brit. but hey, he's obviously doing something right (note: walking dead & invincible) so i'll quit my harping. just let down is all.
kinda makes me wish i was devastating people by not publishing things...ha ha. one can only hope, right?

honestly...

i almost died today. and it wasn't cool at all.
i seriously don't feel like driving for a week. and now my stomach hurts like i ate a really wicked rotten burrito.

we look good side by side...

...let's get a bottle and drink alone tonight.
this light looks good on you.

it's simple. i promise.

fuck people.

now there's nothing left to do, but die.

she's got that kind of sigourney weaver beautiful, back when she was an amazonian fox.
dancer's legs and a disarming smile.
all tied together by the dreams of a james cameron. gotta love Aliens. but if it wasn't for ridley scott and dan o'bannon being the geniuses they were. it never would've happened.

90 days of sweat and dirt feels like one moment when you've got nothing left.

we used to be real, right? not just fictitious dancers gliding alone in the dark?
maybe you were sent back from the future to save me.
i'm pretty sure i'm in love with you.

liberating...ain’t it?

it's got that sound that really likes to put you to sleep. but i don't think there's gonna be much sleep around here, it's too dull to fall and has too much energy to do much. but that's the way it is, i guess. unexplainable and palpable, if that makes sense.
so i avoid it all as much as i can, while indulging in it as often as i like.
(now, figure that out if you can)