enough about me, lets talk about you for a minute
i'm a live in the moment, fly by the seat of my pants kinda gal, you know.
enough about you, lets talk about life for awhile
ya know, sex always seems like the answer, and then afterwards, the answers you need multiply by like a thousand
the conflicts
well if you didnt, you wouldnt be losing your mind right now
if i didn't what?
care what people think about you
the craziness
ironically enough, i'm trying to guide you here. its like the blind leading the blind
lets go jump off a cliff accidentally
thelma and louise style?
and the sound of pretenses falling
that's all. im really ok.
just the little outside eyes, the therepists notepad
like "i like you. do you like me? check a box, Yes or No"
in a note folded strategically so as to double as a paper football
yeah that little personality thing gets in the way
allllllllllllllllll around allllllllllllllllllllll arrrrrouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuououououououououound
WHY ARE YOU SO PETRIFIED OF SILENCE
here can you handle this:
(Don't worry, I'm not gonna do what you all think I'm gonna do, which is, you know, FLIP OUT!)
and all i need now is intellectual intercourse
you're my brain food for the day. every other conversation is pretty vapid.
vapid? hello chicken dinner!
a soul to dig the hole much deeper
if only you were a guy
or if i were a guy
i could never undertake the responsibility of dealing with that boy's thoughts
i tip my hat to you, ma'am
i'm done being worried about not seeming deep enough to "get him."
o huney, no.
there is no depth
he smears all the lines out so no one can figure out hes just scared of everything.
if only i could kill the killer
i want to die. not really, but im really fucking losing my mind and i only have a few small reasons as to why
and we will land safely back in our bedrooms with our baby brothers out of the evil prince's grasp
im tired of being so mean to myself all the time
horomone levels have gone psycho
all i really want is some peace man
a place to find a common ground
and all i really want is a wavelength
all i really want is some COMFORT
a way to get my hands untied
2 comments:
i love how i'm commenting on my own comments...but to really drive the point home here, when the hell is this wicked game over? drink, flirt, fuck, self depricate, repeat. and i think the thing that really kills us both, is that feeling that no matter who we play the game with, they are going to get to the finish line far ahead of us. it's the tortoise and the hare. but in our version, even though the hare fucks around and binges, he's still gonna beat us poor little tortoises. and i mean, we're just as cute as the rabbits! but these hard shells that we constantly creep back into arent really there.
i don't even want to be a hare. i just want someone who i can call and know that they'll pick up. i just want someone who thinks about me once a day. i just want someone who doesnt consider me to be disposable. i just want someone to cuddle with. and stuffed animals dont hug back.
and all i really want is some COMFORT...any ideas on where i can get some of that? because frankly, i'm spent.
holy shit that rant was nuts even for me. my sincere apologies
How are turtles and blondes the same?
(i dunno, carmine, how?)
they're both fucked when they get on their backs.
comfort comes, from what ive learned, mostly from my sister, who has an impeccable way of making big things so clear and packaged, when i REALLY get myself into a pickle.
they come running when my life is threatened. its fun to take a look around to ID my selfless saviours when im hanging.
cat, i love you. im gonna get myself into an irreversible pickle soon. I just want to tell you so.
i wish the most for you everyday, when i think about you. I know that's not quite the same, but just rememeber.
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