Cali, Here I Come

I'm off to California. Yay. So you won't be hearing from me for the next week and a half. Wish me luck. Pray that I don't kill my family...and that they don't kill me. And that I don't get sunburned too badly or drowned or eaten by a stupid whale or trampled by a horse or killed in a plane crash or beaten with a volleyball or whatever else could possibly happen to me in my travels. And don't hesitate to call me if anything interesting happens while I'm away. (make sure Jack knows that the casting list for Grease counts as something interesting and as soon as anything is known he needs to call me. Also if Mara cries or there's a catfight over the casting of Rizzo: CALL ME.) Have a Merry Christmas everyone! I love you! I'll see you on the flip side.

later.

There Are Worse Things I Could Do Than Screw Up an Audition or Two...

I failed. Epically. I tanked the first audition and, for one reason or another I was given a second chance at it. And I failed even worse at the callbacks. The thing is, I don't get nervous. Not bad nervous. I learned a long time ago to channel nervous energy into excitement. And I couldn't do it last night. I couldn't do it and I got sent home. It's not even that I wanted a part in the show that badly. I did, but that's not what I'm really upset about. What upsets me the most is that because this is the only time these people have ever heard me sing, that's what they think I sound like. And these are people I respect and I know they respect me as an actor and a person, but I need them to respect me as a singer. Because I'm a singer waaaaay before I'm an actor. Heck, I'm a singer way before I'm a person half the time. And I can sing. I'm not being vain, I'm not bragging. I'm being truthful. I sing like a big black woman. And the directors of the show (the people whose respect I crave so badly) will never know that because they've only ever heard me completely blow two auditions. It's incredibly frustrating.

Libertine

I think he does agree. Why does he remind me of Billie Joe?

Woah

oh my.
that was unexpected.

With Love, From Me To You

What ever did become of the likely lads?

What became of the dreams they had?

What happened to forever?

We'll never know.

Those kites we flew together,
I thought they'd fly forever.
Why won't it fly?
Time flies,
time dies.
You're not what you own,
you're not alone.
We weren't alone.
by this point in the studio time...
now i'll take it it's better for you
somehow we'll make it cause that's what we do
these things tell us how we fit with each other
even if we don't know how we fit anywhere else.
escapade.
this will linger, i'm almost sure of it.
you were right,
it lingers.
linger.
such a good word.
it means:
1. to remain or stay on in a place longer than is usual or expected, as if from reluctance to leave
2. to dwell in contemplation, thought, or enjoyment
3. to remain alive; continue or persist, although gradually dying, ceasing, disappearing




i like the last one the best. don't you agree?

More Truth

you don't live up to yourself

Off The Couch

Just do it already.

You're driving me crazy. Stop talking to other people. Talk to me. Ugh. This could (should) be so much simpler.

How To Deal With Silly People (or at least how I deal with them.)

"you should know i'm disaster."

"you should know i love you anyway."

"no you don't, you just think you do."

"what's the difference between loving you and thinking i love you?"

"one way you'll eventually leave me and the other you won't."

"i'll never leave you."

"yes you will, you just think you won't."

"hush."

"did you just-?"

"hush."

Vinyard Gossip

questions.
so many questions.
it's fitting, though;
many questions
for the sake of much affection.
would you...?
do you...?
could we...?
i heard through the grapevine
some news about you.
it made me smile
and i sent some news of my own
back in your direction.
but i'm bored of the grapevine lately.
lets take another step already.
cut out all the middle men and
gossipy high school girls.
lets talk.
lets ask the questions we've been afraid
to even ask ourselves.
so many questions.
but there's more than enough time
for you and i.
more than enough for all the
questions.

Goodbye Waves and Driveways

I love this song. If you haven't heard it, you need to. Now. Go.


"Just walk away
Gather your thoughts for the second wave
Of this argument on this epic changing day
Its crazy to think that an hour ago all things were great
But we stand here both proud both wrong and right
Throwing cheap shots in this stubborn fight
And our lives are so intertwined in one
But we're just so stuck in this moment it's clear that were coming undone

And I don’t know exactly how it is
That we can be so mad we consider to not exist
When we both know there’s so much love clenched within our fists

The goodbye waves in the driveway they just resonate
And yes I am throwing it right back at her
While were drowning in rivers from our faces
We just wanna know if, this is this over
A trembling silence fills the air
As we stand here so impaired, so aware

I sit in this house
Alone with fresh photographs
And I just can’t relax
And like cigarette smoke, I’m starting to choke on this
That half of my soul is on the road in a car with a girl in a dress

And I don’t know exactly how it is
That just to say I’m right your wrong we both lose to win

The goodbye waves in the driveway they just resonate
And yes I am throwing it right back at her
While were drowning in rivers from our faces
We just wanna know if this, is this over
A trembling silence fills the air
As we stand here whoa-oh

Hey maybe it's time that we stopped and we realized
Like a flag in the wind we are one
And how at first it’s made so pure and lovely
But in battle can be torn to shreds
But with time and with patience and love and affection
Can be fixed with needle and thread
Remember me
Remember me


And don't walk away..."

Shambling

two piercing eyes
glanced into two piercing eyes
and energies met head-on
we tiptoe around
like heartbreaking new friends.
tiptoe-ing in that phophorescent void.
heartbreaking.
my nutty surrealist low-voiced serious staring talk
and your critical anti-everything drawl
leaning together, hands waving wildly,
conversing excitedly,
when beings like this collide,
we are attacked with the great amorous soul
we have just created
like a huge benzedrine hallucination.
it all sounds so much more poetic in words,
it all felt so much more poetic in emotions,
in looks, in such an unreal reality.

We Went to New York

rainbow child,
do you hear the dear nightingales
nodding on the branches outside your window?
in the distance
your paper-mache mountains
smile as they sing a lullaby
just for you.
your universe is entirely crazy,
cock-eyed and strange.
your universe in all its entirety.
beware, child, of your own foolish whims.
they'll ask you questions like
"you going to get somewhere, or just going?"
you won't understand, but you should know
it's a good question.
and your answer will say it all.

Weather Or Not

rain is just jealous snow.
cause they're both wet,
but rain isn't as fun.

The Sound of Your Breathing

You've been coming around more often lately. Or perhaps I've just been more aware of you. I hear your whispers throughout my entire day now. Running commentary on my decisions and answers to my questions for you. You have a sense of humour! Who knew? You used to reside in the back of my mind, but that's not where I want you to be anymore. I'm keeping you in front now, every moment of every day. I want to hear you before I hear myself. I want your words to be my words. I need you close all the time. You, sitting next to me in school. You, holding my hand when I'm nervous. You, your arms around me, comforting me when I need it most. You, lying next to me, holding me at night. My head against your chest, the rise and fall, the pattern of your breathing, the beating of your heart, so full of love that I can barely stand it. It's an uncomfortable thought to think--that you love me as much as you do, yet it's the biggest comfort I've ever experienced. What could be better than to be loved by someone who knows nothing but love for me?

WIthout Saying

There are good reasons, there are bad reasons-but most of all, there are too many reasons. They cloud, they crush, they decieve. They are too much and never enough.

There is an avoidance in everything. Avoidance, and invention. Ramona rings Milo's doorbell. William watches Ramona as she mentions the still point of morning, Ramona rings the doorbell again. WIlliam invents Ramona. Ramona invents Milo. They are all invented.

And you...you are not invented. Who do you invent? It goes unspoken.

To love--to fall--is not a question.

To touch--to kiss--to speak--these are questions.

There is nothing worse than a ruined friendship. There is nothing better than a companion. Somewhere in between lies risk.

Somewhere in between, lies.

He Says

she is the thing he is most afraid of

and the thing he is most in need of.

in order to hold her

he has to let go of the control

he has held onto for so long.

she makes him want to stand up

and yell;

not even yell words.

nonsense.

a language of love,

a language of youth,

a language of impulse and beauty.

she makes him frown in concern,

but she makes him laugh in relief,

grin in amusement

and guffaw in disbelief.

all in all

he figures it's slightly more than worth it.

she makes him

the person he wants to be.

She Says...

he makes her want to get out of here.
he makes her want to peel off her skin
and step right out of it
it's too tight, far too restricting
for the spontaneity he inspires in her.
people think she's on drugs when
she says stuff like that.
because of him.
he makes her want to dance in the rain.
he makes her want to die.
she laughs more with him than anyone else
and she's cried more times over him
than she cares to count.
he makes her alive

Interrogation

Have you ever met someone who made you feel comfortable in your own skin, when you never have before?

Have you ever met someone who, in the purest, simplest way possible, you could not get close enough to, just because you feel safer in their arms than you do anywhere else in the world?

Have you ever met someone that you wanted to be with more than anything, but knew that under no circumstances could things ever possibly end with the two of you together?

Have you ever loved and lost?

Have you ever loved and not gotten the chance to lose?

Do you ever feel you were born in the wrong time, in the wrong place?

Have you ever felt any of this about me?

456

we didn't bother to say we'd keep in touch.

why lie to ourselves?

besides, touch isn't something you can keep over a distance.

perhaps we'll keep in words. probably not.

weird, isn't it?

for two people who know basically nothing about each other,

we have quite a story, don't we?

it's a good thing that smiling is free cause tears definitely aren't.

they cost far more than i'd like to think about.

Goodbye Is Only Painful When You Know You'll Never Say Hello Again

it feels like a lover i won't see in the morning

so i keep my eyes open through the night.

i take these things

for more than what they're worth,

i take each kiss for more

than what it's meant to be.

call me a hopeless romantic,

call me just plain pathetic,

i am what i feel and

tonight i'm not that much

-the new is in

i didn't wait for you after the last bell.

i thought about it;

believe me, i did.

but our previous salutation

was so perfect;

one last time

one for the road, it's been fun.

i didn't want to ruin it all

with public displays of affection

public displays of rejection.

i just came to say

goodbye love.

Psalm 139

i can't be wonderfully made without fear. i can't be fearfully made without wonder. when i awake (I AM) still with you. i don't want to know about you, i want to know you. i don't want to love you, i want to fall in love with you. first love: talking on the phone for hours--not even talking; just listening to the sound of each other breathing, teased by friends, it all seems so silly but it's not, it's the best thing that's ever happened to you. that's what i want with you. i want to be so enamoured with you that my friends don't understand it. they think it's silly and they tease me about it, but you're the most real thing i've ever experienced. i want to listen to you breathe for hours at a time, i want to know what you're going to say before you've said it. that's how well i want to know you. you are the Alpha and Omega and everything in between. your hands are strong enough to bear the universe and gentle, careful enough to knit together my inmost being, knot by knot. you never change but your grace is new every morning. no man can look upon your face and live, but we are invited to draw near to you. and draw near to you i shall. i will no longer be content to sit safely on the cliff as your hand covers me so that i may glimpse your back. i will be the fool who dares run toward you, who dares to gaze upon you, because i know it will be worth it, just to see your face. the disciples were martyred and imprisoned all for three years of time with you, yet i would die for just a moment, just a touch, just a word. that is how beautiful you are. you are far more than worth dying for; you're worth living for.

Can You Guess The Theme?

It Ain't Me, Babe

i look back

one year to the day from last week

did those things actually happen?

could have they?

they did.

i remember

exactly what i wore

the exact look on your face

the exact feel of your hand in mine

the exact things you said to me.

and now.

did that actually happen?

could it have?

it did.

i know i cried

i know the sound of your pity

i know your absence

i know what you said

words that meant nothing

to my heavy heart.

i thought...

i thought wrong.

LH

sometimes

when i take too many showers

i feel empty.

like i've scrubbed away

everything that could possibly matter.

all my nerves

and my ability to feel.

but i like smelling nice.

Clothes Pinned Cranes

it seems that everyone dies on a twentieth.

if you know what i mean here,

then you know me better than

i expected anyone to.

Impromptu

stand up. now. dance. now. no, seriously. i'm not kidding. you there, reading this. whatever brought you here, whatever caused you to read this-the silly ramblings of a silly girl in her silly house with her silly plaid pajama bottoms and the silly hoodie that rightfully shouldn't even belong to her, listening to her silly music, typing on her silly computer-whatever brought you to all this silliness; think about it for a moment. do you know me? are we good friends? were we once best friends? do we even talk anymore? have we ever talked? have we ever met? how did we meet? were we ever really honest with each other when we did talk? did you just stumble across this blog by chance? by serendipity? what brought you here? think about it. now: forget it. no, seriously. do it. forget what connects us. forget what we had, forget what we were or are to each other. think for a moment about what we could be. think of all the possibilities. we could be married. we could be lovers. we could be best friends. we could be enemies. a year from now we may never speak again. we could be inseparable. we could be coworkers. we could be in a band together. i could be your biggest fan. you could install my cable. think of what we could be. now: forget it. now: don't be afraid. don't consider the terrors of the future or the traumas of the past. for once in your overwrought, overthought life, don't think. at all. do what is there. sing. scream. SCREAM. turn up the music. dance on the tables. they can take it. they can deal. be you. be uninhibited, naturally, truly you. wash off your makeup, take out your ponytail, go barefoot. let go of the world before it lets go of you.

Growing Into Our Lives (And the People In Them)

once upon a time there was a girl, and this girl had a sweater. it was her favourite thing in the world to wear. it was oversized and very warm. the sleeves fell past her fingertips, the hem hung halfway to her knees and the neck was all stretched out from one too many chilly days spent with her cold nose tucked into it.

she and the sweater were practically inseparable. she wore it to the park, she wore it out to eat, she wore it to her friend's house to watch movies and she wore it to church on Sundays. she even wore it to bed a couple of times.

but after a while the girl got older and started thinking about other clothes. though she swore that she still loved her sweater, she began trying other ensembles on for size. she donned peasant tops, band tee shirts, jackets, mini-skirts, khakis and shorts. she even borrowed a pair of her friend's skinny jeans without asking, hoping to return them before the friend noticed (the friend did notice, however, and was furious with the girl for months). but none of these new clothes felt right to her.

then, one night, the girl was out shopping when she saw it: the dress. the dress was perfect in every way. it was just the right shade of green to complement her eyes and the style reflected her personality exactly. the girl went into the store and tried it on to find that the garment looked even better on her than it had on the hanger. it fit her like a glove; even the saleswomen couldn't quite speak when they saw how extraordinary the girl looked. the dress made her feel beautiful. but when she looked at the price tag, her soaring heart sank. there was no way she could afford something like this. the girl walked out of the store, determined that she would find a way to purchase the dress.

every day for a month the girl walked by the store and looked at the dress while the sweater she once loved so much sat at the back of her closet with the rest of her winter clothes, forgotten. she had been saving up as much money as she could and by the end of the month she finally had enough. she walked into the store excitedly, but the dress was not in its normal place. she rushed over to the saleswoman, panicked, and was informed that the dress had been sold just that morning. heartbroken, the girl walked dejectedly back to her apartment and collapsed into bed.

for weeks she didn't bother getting dressed nicely. she rarely tried new outfits anymore--when she did she just ended up getting depressed, because neither the cute t-shirt her cousin had brought her back from a trip to Russia, nor the bright yellow sunglasses she'd picked up on her way home from school one day could live up to the dress. the 70s style skirt she'd picked up at a local thrift store just made her feel cheap. even a cute, worn-in hoodie she'd had for a few years couldn't lift her spirits.

summer turned into fall and the days got shorter and colder. the girl, at the insistence of her caring sister and a few worried friends, packed away the sunglasses that none of them had really liked to begin with (they were too large and not particularly flattering) and began to bring our her cold weather clothing. during this task she stumbled across her favourite old sweater. pleasantly surprised, she pulled it on over her t-shirt and instantly melted a little in its warmth. she'd grown a bit since the last time she'd worn it, so it fit her better than it ever had before. and even though it wasn't as big on her as before, it still carried the same comfort it always had. she curled up on the couch in her new-old sweater, and for the first time in ages didn't think about the dress that she'd thought was made just for her, but the sweater that just needed some growing into.

truth 4

me escribo por lo tanto estoy.

Confusion Answered

I didn't tear down the walls,

though I know to you it must seem that way.

They were brought down by an outside force

and it broke my heart

to not be able to tell you why or how.

I didn't abandon you

even if it felt that way.

The theatre is not empty,

your words do not go unheard,

I swear.

Searching for the opportune moment

to breach the silence

offer up explanations.

And here

we

go...

truth 3

we're more fearful than we let on.

truth 2

the signs are all screaming, "DEAD END, THIS IS NOT WHAT YOU ARE MEANT TO BE."

my head says differently.

truth 1

i can't tell you how much i still hate you sometimes, because i'm afraid i'll accidentally end up telling you about how much i still love you.

No Time Like The Present

look around,

your life is scattered on the floor

with the randomness

of a blind man's rummage sale.

c'mon now,

offer me up

some rock n roll salvation

from circumstance.

the finest day i ever had

was when tomorrow never came,

unfortunately, the finest

has never been mine.

turn around.

see where you've been?

i've been there too

and i'm not going back.

walk forward with me.

i'm becoming to them

what you were to me.

quotations never quite live up to themselves;

do you live up to yourself?

you.

actually.

broke.

my.

heart.

not in a romantic, break-up,

lalalala, we were in love,

oh-so-much-teen-angst

way.

but in the worst way possible.

betrayal.

i understand, i'm not like you.

you're a writer, i'm a poet;

almost like distant cousins-

poets are kind of like people.

but still.

words i was never meant to see,

but that you can never take back.

it's terrible

when unexpected obstacles come up,

isn't it?

dante was right on when he placed people like you.

and i'm not sure if i can

ever forgive you for that.

but i'll try anyway.

not for your sake,

for mine.

for the first time in my life

i'm not all about you.

for the last time in my life,

it's about you.

WotD

Legerdemain

meaning:

1. Sleight of hand.

2. A display of skill, trickery, or artful deception.

A Day of Thanks

weeks. weeks? weeks? weeks!

seven days (times what?) aren't enough.

weeks can't contain the things

that i still have to say to you.

weeks don't begin to cover

the amount of time i'll need

to hold your hand.

weeks can't fathom the things

we haven't learned yet.

but weeks are all we have

if we're lucky.

Blush!

I've been given an award! Yay! Plural yay! Yays! 'Twas bestowed upon me by one healingstones of Stoneweaver; a blog that really caught my eye, where different types of stones and things of that nature are talked about. (I'm really not doing the blog justice-you should check it out yourself). She also makes some pretty incredible jewelry out of the materials that she talks about and writes a mean haiku. So here's to you, healingstones.

So here's the deal. The award has to be passed on to other people. But here are the rules first:

* Mention the blog that gave it to you and comment on their blog to let them know you have posted your award.

* Share 6 values that are important to you and 6 things you do not support. Grant the prize to 6 people.

Onward!

1. Loyalty

2. Creation

3. Joy

4. Originality

5. Relationships-of all sorts; family, friends, partners, anyone I've built a relationship with in my life

6. Sincerity

1. intolerance

2. hate

3. betrayal

4. vanity

5. negative outlooks

6. indifference

Okay. Six people that I think should recieve this award. This should be sufficiently difficult. But I'll do my best. In no particular order:

1. Calm Before Every Storm

2. Throwing Chairs

3. Red Eyes

4. 100 Acorns

5. Amazed By Grace

6. Creations of Christ

All of them are utilizing their blogs in their own way; expressing themselves through poetry, photographs, their beliefs and their opinions. Each deserve the award for the creativity they've poured into their respective blogs. Check them out!

Think About It

i'm so

disquieted.

calm my shaking hands, be still, my heart.

my spastic, ADD inflicted cardio-treasure,

you're gonna have a nervous breakdown

if you keep going at this rate.

so breathe, just breathe,

the merry-go-round's not going as quickly as you think it is;

the music's not so loud.

shhh.

be quiet.

do you hear it?

inspiration move me brightly;

reality slap me across the face.

i should have slapped you when i had the chance.

ah, melodrama,

so easy to slip back there, isn't it?

such a pretty word,

how bad can it be?

my palindrome friend,

remind me why i need to say no.

i know i don't want this.

i swear i don't want this.

there's a reason not to want this,

but i forgot.

sweet-talking, well-meaning, huge-smiling,

liar?

since when?

user, abuser, loser,

you sicken me

even as i want more.

isn't that always the case, though?

the things we hate most are the things we want most.

and the things we hate most about other people

are the things we hate most about

ourselves.

what does that say about me?

and what does it say about you that

you don't hate those same things in me?

or do you?

who knows?

stupid liar.

match made in heaven.

match made in hell--

the eighth circle, to be exact,

in the tenth bolgia.

we can make our promises,

but look where we are.

we'll just end up like the rest-

they tear each other apart at every turn.

go ahead, say you're above it all,

you've lied before.

Don't Make Me 2

don't make me a mistake, he said.

HAH.

he made himself a mistake.

and everybody-even him-warned her

of the end that was sure to come.

but when masochism meets second

(third, fourth, fifth)

chances,

mistakes get made

and hearts get stomped on.

'i should've known better'-

-the refrain of the hopelessly devoted,

and she's exactly where she began

(where she always ends up)

wondering why she even bothered

trying to move again.

WotD

Lacuna

meaning:

1. A blank space; a missing part; a gap.

2. A small opening, depression, or cavity in an anatomical structure.

This Isn't Emo, It's The Sound of My Shattering Heart

i need

i need

i need

in need

in edd

ined

i need.

i need expression

beyond this.

there is no word

for the feelings inside me.

conflicted, churning, hurting, wanting, being,

learning, hoping, twisted, lost lost lost for words.

growing up.

i want.

i want the nonexistent phrase.

the one that will set me free.

i want to cry, but i can't.

i want you back, but

you're distracted,

over it,

moving on,

going going going going going going ogingngoignda

gone.

the lamp shines in a puddle

on the hotel carpet.

and she cries.

and he cries.

and she dies

just a little more.

always a tragedy, those two.

the lamp shines in her hair

as she collapses into a puddle

on the hotel carpet.

she shines on the hotel carpet.

a lamp.

i am a lamp?

no, i'm the lamplight

and i'm only as bright as you ask me to be.

beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.

behold one another,

discover the colour of each other's eyes,

and decide how beautiful you each will be

for today.

because tomorrow never knows.

no one ever knows.

WotD

i apologize for the lack of WotD posts lately and posts in general. i've been a bit distracted by life, as i'm sure you all understand. to make up for it, i brought you all a really good word today.....

defenestrate

meaning:

to throw out of a window.

Many Of You Already Know

there's a wailing wall at the center of the city

and i'm kneeling at the base

scanning the past exclamations

that have been left all over it.

a wall meant for the graffiti

of the heart.

nobody has ever been silent at the wall

but you.

you and i,

in the same silence again.

forgot how good that could be.

we sat at the top of the structure,

miles above the rest.

ignored their lamentations,

lost in the clouds.

then.

falling.

oh, what a fall

it was indeed from that glory.

and now i'm screaming at the wailing wall.

hoping you can hear me from way up there.

one day i'll realise that you fell too,

and that you're right beside me, screaming at a wall

when you should be screaming at me.

Don't Make Me

you said: don't make me a mistake.

i said: i'm trying.

and, fingers entwined, we returned

to a place that we'd never quite been to,

but that we always knew

we'd end up in.

On Burying My Grandmother

you can't re-member that which has been

dismembered.

you can only remember.

little caterpillar with the big orange head,

inching along the green pseudo-velvet;

has anyone been dismembered from you?

and if so,

do you even remember it?

i'll never forget that first shovel of dirt.

the rest that followed

were just a rhythm

to think to.

it will turn around.

i need more time,

just a few more months and we'll be fine.

i don't even know which one

i'm talking to anymore.

you were so much.

you are so much.

you could be so much.

if the chance was there.

which it wasn't.

isn't.

won't be.

things in threes;

always in threes.

holy number, painful number,

my number,

always been our number.

now your number.

who cares about numbers anyway?

how much?

how many?

times what?

adds up to?

evens out to about?

equals?

no matter what, it's never enough is it?

never enough time.

never enough chances.

never enough disney movies.

never enough drawings,

dreams, lyrics, roadtrips, memories, school years, coloured pencils, basements, CD's, puppets, phone conversations, lazy afternoons, songs, bus rides, games, classes, blue couches, pop tarts, hugs, anniversaries, love, peppermint patties, questions, trays, marshmallows, tea, guitar solos, concerts, e-mails, books, pens, lamps, reality, notebooks, toast, stories, dances, pillows, ink,

never enough.

i was never enough

and i'm sorry for that much.

no excuses, no qualifiers.

heavy shrug, hanging head, loving glance.

i'll never leave this world alive,

but i'll leave behind a requiem

for a fading way of thought

and a few new words in a pail by the door.

keep an eye out for it, will you?

WotD

Bombinate

meaning:

1. to buzz, hum or drone

Addressed to Every Soul

please.

Tripping On Mr Yuck Stickers

sail. sail sail sail into yourself. be free enough to figure out who you are. go sail. i'm sailing. or perhaps i'm just failing.

fall. fall fall fall to me. it can't possibly hurt worse than where you are now. so fall. i'm falling. more like calling.

try. try try try for us. don't spend your life rehashing what-if's in your head. please try. i'm trying. crying, actually.

but what's a consonant between friends?

not enough, apparently.

oops.

it was a lovely evening,

so i decided to take a calming stroll

down memory lane.

i got lost in my own

sing-song-y thoughts

and began to skip

down the path,

i danced through the twists

and turns

forgetting to do everything but remember,

remembering everything except how to forget.

i sang and thought, danced and loved

my way down the lane

and then i tripped.

You and I

down the hallway.

stares? yeah.

laughs? so what?

it's not that we don't notice,

we're just not affected.

we are the kids

who know about everything

and care about nothing, you and i

and when everyone else

is right back where they started

teaching or selling furniture

just like Glory Days,

we'll be on the stage,

or on Capitol Hill,

on top of the world.

they don't know it yet,

but we'll always be at the top.

you and i.