I was thinking of something beautiful to say to you. But every time it ended ugly. I was thinking of something honest to say to you , but it was all a lie. I was thinking of a way to describe the way I feel , but i'm always directed to my reflection. Maybe they can't see it in my eyes. Hell , they probably can't even see it in my words. Hear it in my tone. I wouldn't expect them to. But you , you're not like them. You and me , we're of the same cloth. All different shades , patterns , feels of course. But together , whole. That alone gives me solidity . Fills in the blanks. There's still a lot I don't know. I'm only man. But what I can tell you is that each piece I share with you is a fragment of my mind , a fragment of my soul , love , and pain. I'm naked in the eyes of you. Bare , pride and all yet you may never notice. What I share with you is deeper than skin. Deeper than now. I just hope one day we can come back and sit here with a bottle of champagne and laugh about it.
I don't know what I was thinking. Being so open that is. I'm just a man. A mortal man that's flawed. These red Adidas , my scratched forehead , and tired eyes. The wind dancing in my hair. Your voice echoing in my ears. Snacks from the corner store fill my mouth. I rather that than the honest truth. I spent my whole life believing I belonged else where, but I always end up back here. In your love , in this city , in this bed , in my head. I hope you look in between the lines. I hope you listen to my words. Before it's too late. Before I get lost in the days. Before I get caught in the waves.
I feel re-born. Between the un-answered text messages and missed calls I'd think they'd get the memo. I like to see them try otherwise. I put the bottle down. I picked my head up. I refuse to re-live my dark ages. Everyday it's the same pages. I read it on everyone's faces , I refuse to change for them.
I'm chasing a clouded sky. With expectations as high and realities at ground level. I come to realize maybe I'm running in circles. Or perhaps in an empty field of what if's and could be's. --Honest text messages about how you feel I swipe and delete without hesitation. My read rescripts aren't on but you know my eyes have met your words. I skip faces like I skip songs in this way too familiar playlist entitled " Before It Even Began ". I don't remember the reason behind it's name because I can't feel. Or maybe I choose not to. I was told your mental was something you can just turn on and off. You can control what you care about for other words. I doubted that statement having any truth coming from your pink pigmented lips. But now I question not your authenticity behind those words , but weather if they applied to me all along. I described love as a long car ride , filled with mild wind and cruel storms. I never described an ending. I never specified if I was in the passenger seat or the one jamming the pedal. What do I know?
-- Don't ask me about the inauguration
- Ah , we meet again. Face to face through this thin screen. So close you can smell my artificial fruit flavored breath climb it's way through your nostrils. That is , I just left from the movie theaters alone , dissatisfied , filled with ounces of sugar and feeling quite pathetic if i'm speaking truthfully. How fetal we are as adults. I'm beginning to realize once you think you have it figured all out , you really don't. You just closed the book too early. Wanting to believe that you chose your happy ending. But ah , that's not how this works. We're no mere than specs of matter occupying whatever the fuck this so called American dream is.Well this is not that. I look at my reflection piercing my own cold eyes trying to find reason for my lifeless statue and almost android response to human emotion. I've recently aged a year older in what seems to be an eternity of repetition and you guessed it... dreaming. But truly what do you do when those clouds fall upon your hand and you realize how shallow they really are inside? Do you keep dreaming? Do you jump in front of the nearest speeding car at the green light ? Or do you wander aimlessly like a chicken with it's head cut off. A lost child prancing from isle to isle looking for their guardian. I sound pretty grim and I apologize , life isn't really all that bottomless. Neither are your pockets , and your humanly instinct to always want more. But one thing never fails , we will all eventually be no longer. I conclude , very sober , a smidgen of lonesome , very driven , not so rich ( but I do have a trick or two up my sleeve ) , and finally ready to wake up tomorrow hopeful of an answer for yesterday and today.
- drink water , take deep breaths , and don't beat yourself up. - 1:11 AM
Miles Davis's Kind Of Blue plays in the background. It's 9:18 pm but to be completely honest time doesn't even feel existent anymore. I stopped checking the dates. I guess you could presume , i'm fully indulged in the "now" as of late. Me and inspiration have had our disagreements. Or more or so my mind and my body. Aging perhaps? Too self aware maybe ? The trials and tribulations of a human caught in the crossfire of being at war with oneself , but also finding peace within it. Comfort in the white noise. I've built this world around me to escape the harsh reality that is the now and tomorrow , but here I find myself at halt. Do I shatter that glass piggy bank , pick up the pencil within and continue the chapter that is the next page to my life? Or do I just lie here? Eyes open , carried by the noise. Maybe I'll flip a coin.