Naked as we came

Honest, It feels a lot better this time.

Day In, Day Out, Day In, Day Out, Day In, Day Out.

So, this is inevitable withdrawal, and so far it feels all right. It would be nice to take a holiday away from this place. To just drive, and drive, and drive just to watch the road disappear beneath me. It's quite true, that the best moments in life are when one finds themselves in a familiar complete state of inadequate confusion. I think we were better when we were young, and content to live as bluebirds do. When it was just enough to sit around in a circle and tell stories about pilgrims&indians and make feathered headresses and black puritain caps, and eat popcorn and drink from our juice boxes. What do you say, dearest? But now, there's a man dressed in black, standing in front of me with his hands stretched out, and his teeth are made of wood. His nose is crooked, but his eyes seem nice. He was raised in a one-horse kind of town. Do you remember those times when you were with the person you love the most, just sitting in that car and listening to the badly tuned radio, asking for more time, or quite abstractly asking nothing at all? Sending out one-line wisdom quotations out of the sunroof, into the sky? Wasn't that just enough? To feel love and wisdom and confusion mixing together in one space, to form a completely pure feeling of random organized nostalgic contemplation.

Keep me in mind

And I just stood there crying, eyes wide open, breathing it in, holding it all inside of my head, willing it not to spill out onto the floor. Is there such a thing as mental atrophy? If there is, I hope it diminishes me, and sheds it holy light across my forehead, leading me to better places than this one. I hope it strips me naked, and lays bare all of my fears and wonders, all of my triumphs and my charms. May be then, I'll get somewhere. But, of course for now, I'd rather my story remain untold, until I have found a function for appendixes and funny bones. I'd like to ask someone, if they could love me as much as they love themselves. If I could witness their life, and attach it to mine. If may be they'd like that one day. One day.

Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

I love you very much.



" How about another cup of tea?"

I hope when people offer tea, it's a gesture of love.

It should be.



It feels like I'm cutting out my eyes and ears and feeding them to my nose. Why is it, that I never seem to be, exactly where I ought to? The earth is shifting under me, taking me with it, and leaving me behind. I trusted it to take me to where I need to be, but it has failed me on every count. When someone says " I love you " it should be made a natural law, that the earth moves your body to the place to where that person is. To witness their tears, and kiss their mouth, and hold their face in your hands. But no, the earth is a big ugly moron.

Articulation

Everything hurts now. And everyone is the way they should be, except for me. I should be driven, and motivated, and ready to start, but everything is as it should be, and I'm left out. I'm a creep, I'm insane, I'm optimistic, and rightly so. So much for my endearing sense of charm. I was so much happier when I played the game, and knew completely all that they so discretely talk about. Instead, I find myself alone, and unarmed. Is that really such a bad thing after all? To go through life carrying no weapon of indifference or intolerance? They shout, they scream, TAKE NOTICE! TAKE INTEREST! TAKE ME WITH YOU!... Don't they know, we're all just trying to live? We're just dying to live. We burn the roads, blind our hearts, and it's cold and I'm tired now.