sdrawkcaB
<< 10:28 p.m. - Sunday, Mar. 13, 2005 >>
"The heart is a bloom
Shoots up through the stony ground
There's no room
No space to rent in this town

You're out of luck
And the reason that you had to care
The traffic is stuck
And you're not moving anywhere

It's a beautiful day
Sky falls, you feel like
It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away"

So, once again, here I am. Back to the drawing board. Ripping my pictures off the wall for the third time in six months and looking back at empty meaningless walls. The echo in the room and dusty floor. I'm used to it now. My assortments of magic beans, rocks, and tickets are only in the way now. Life isn't as pretty as it was before, I am okay, even kinda good, but everything seems to have a harsher appearance. Fuck me, I can't stop taking about it.

Whatever, I'll pretend like I'm writing this for myself.

I'm already choked up from him walking into the room. I am not me. He is not him. I'm exposed and so tender and all mixed up in him. Screw you Love, I am simultaneously empty and full. I know that we won't last forever, because honestly who does and is still happy in the end? But god, I want it to last. I didn't want to seperate our things and put them in seperate boxes, fuck, I didn't want to do anything. I know that we as a couple are not over, but having the story of this house and the amazing people in it end so abruptly, just washes the word "futile" all over me.

I don't think I've ever really dared to write about love before. What a stupid word. I don't think of it that way. It's the palpible stretching of something in my chest. Brings me fluttering winged insects up my throat or a couple gritty tears. Do I risk my "future" on him? On the assumption that we'll be together next year? I have.

It's not all about Erik though; my fear, I mean. It's the knowledge that walking into a bus, I immediately am classified down to nothing. That in the end, I am a divisible number. And what's more, all my friendships will divide themselves into something pathetic and ... something I don't want to dwell on. I have to, though, I have to transition into ... well, that's an entirely different issue.

"You're on the road
But you've got no destination
You're in the mud
In the maze of her imagination

You love this town
Even if that doesn't ring true
You've been all over
And it's been all over you"