gymnopedie

I listened to your laughter above the floor boards. With my ear against the oak, I heard life spring from your lips. It was a very sweet sound. Sleep drips into my pores, courtesy of the long night I lived last night, with my eyes out the window and my pillow untouched. It's colder than it should be as I rise and prepare to dive under blue waves of cotton. Another day. One step closer. Two steps farther.

ddream

I dreamt about all the people I wish I knew. They were in a white room. A really, really, white room. They were all waiting for me. It was my chance to know them, to love them, to miss them, to understand them. I couldn't move, like being restricted by air. I was caught, frozen if you will. My every atom hurt. My whole being longer to be near them. But I couldn't,

I just couldn't.

100

I was never alive - maybe once. Not an atom of me existed until the first day. My construction ruined me, you see. That's what you get when construction workers can't read and cry every night as they look up at the stars from their back yard and ask them 'why?'. Why should I ask myself why? If I don't know and need to ask myself, how would I be able to answer? If a tree falls in the forest and nobody hears it, does it still make a sound? If a heart breaks and nobody sees it, do they still feel it?

the world's greatest fade out

I really do have a lot of things to say. A lot of letters to write, a lot of letters to send. A lot of ink induced pages, built from nights where I didn't sleep but instead dreamt on paper.

I guess it all starts here, or at least continues.

summer

listening to you feels like summer.

I wish this wasn't true

valentine

No, love is not for me, I promise.

I have so many things to say to you.