I can’t take this, I really can’t take any of this. Im not trying to be emotional, I am not trying to be dramatic. I am trying to take something that I feel is so terrifying and express it properly. In minimal words, it’s a simple phrase; I am alone. This isn’t a cry for help, or the angst writings of a teenager. This is a person, a real person, a real person who loves the world, the lights, the music, and the people. A real person who feels very alone, and feels like nobody is there to tell them to not be afraid. So get your fucking pessimistic crap out of the way, it’s blocking my view, and keeping the people I need away from me.
I would of never found you unless I started running, I would of never found you unless I started running.
I am becoming swallowed in colors, and lines, and text. I do not know if it is right or not.
You have to realized what she meant, you have to understand that she is giving you something very important. You have to understand that it wasn’t her trying to get what she wants, it’s her trying to give you what she thinks you need. Something real and tangible. Something that exists.
But in this perfect world where nothing’s perfect, I’m all alone.
I always wondered if those people ever found the answers to their questions, just because they were the only ones brave enough to ask.
For some reason, I pick things out of songs. Like right now, I am listening to Blackbird by the Beatles. You know that lyric “You were only waiting, for this moment to arise.” When does that ever apply to me? I guess only now, only now while I am listening to it does it make sense. It’s why I am writing, it’s why I am thinking so much.
I will not give up, I have built incredible things in my life. No person can ever touch that.
What have you built? What have you created that did not belong or become somebody elses?
Right before I left, we were hugging and I really felt like kissing her, I don’t exactly know why. And then, she went inside and then came back out with a guitar. She played me a couple of songs before I left, she was a cute beginner. I watched her go through familiar chords and riffs. She even played me Day Tripper, by The Beatles, I felt myself smile. Because, I know no girl had ever done anything like that for me ever before. No girl ever will play like way she did for me, ever again.
If I left, what would I pack? What would I leave? I’d pack clothes and books, DVDs and guitars. I’d leave my cell phone and my laptop and just that’s it. I’d take my cameras and my film, I’d leave on a bus to the airport and board a plane. Where would I go? New York? Who do I know in New York?
I want a great life not a good one.
I’m going to get myself killed.