12:08
i feel fortunate that i am able to post while at the beach. it seems like a good opportunity to write something different, something stemming from some other inspiration. but instead i go over the same old shit again and again. hah, its just what matters.
fact is, i go into my bedroom simply to see if my phone has received a new message and curse at it out loud if it hasnt. i check away messages from my secretish screen name to see what people are thinking. i write and respond to comments like theres no tomorrow. this romantic beach trip technology getaway isnt exactly working out. on the other hand, i have taught myself to play a little piano. im not sure whether picking the notes out one by one until i get a line memorized and can play some part of elton john counts as "learning the piano" but its better than nothing. i sat down here last night and wrote a song on my guitar. its just chords with a little breakdown based off a C, no big deal i mean ive done it before. in fact i tried to write lyrics to it but they came out angry and didnt fit, like me i guess. it was turning out country. ick. i told sharon though that i would record it when im done and send it to her so perhaps i will finish it someday. not like there arent others still unfinished though.
somethings, perhaps, are never done. after all, the ocean is never full. and its damn hot/cold on the beach depending on which side of the umbrella youre on. the carpet smells like dog no matter what you do and you dont fool around with jim. fact is, that i hope our children look like you should relieve all doubts. we shouldnt have kids. there is a mental block there. there is a physical block there. a moral block there. too many blocks. i hate to say its all up to you but it probably is. im weak. and there are too many blocks.
i feel so safe in this place. it only occurred to me last night that we are on the bottom floor of a five - and sometimes six - story complex. it never occurred to me before that if i look up there are four more rooms directly above me which may or may not contain people much like me. and yet, the walls arent crumbling. the rigidity is amazing. all those people wont die and i wont die even though they are hanging in space above me. strange. it also occurred to me, angela, that every word i read you have read. all of a sudden i cant help but wonder where you were and what you were thinking when you reached that passage. i want to see the look on your face when you read that line that made me laugh. it feels like that.
i lie in bed at night with my headphones on, dreaming of kissing her. not who you would think. sometimes its the singer, sometimes a random girl i saw on match.com. sometimes it means something, mostly it doesnt. sometimes its just a song. i lie in bed feeling every note, seeing every sound, in between sleep and wake, conscious of my body because it hasnt moved in an hour and is getting tired. i wonder if anybody else can hear me. i look over and check my phone for messages. curse under my breath. wish i could play that, assure myself i will soon. (do you think dave grohl ever gives his drummer tips?)
i would like to stop writing about myself and all i think and do. god knows its never interesting. mostly it just helps me figure it all out for myself. i was thinking the other day that if i really do take philosophy at wake forest that it will give me something real to think about. maybe then it will get interesting. till then though, its just angry words for girls.
what if i asked you to choose?
fact is, i go into my bedroom simply to see if my phone has received a new message and curse at it out loud if it hasnt. i check away messages from my secretish screen name to see what people are thinking. i write and respond to comments like theres no tomorrow. this romantic beach trip technology getaway isnt exactly working out. on the other hand, i have taught myself to play a little piano. im not sure whether picking the notes out one by one until i get a line memorized and can play some part of elton john counts as "learning the piano" but its better than nothing. i sat down here last night and wrote a song on my guitar. its just chords with a little breakdown based off a C, no big deal i mean ive done it before. in fact i tried to write lyrics to it but they came out angry and didnt fit, like me i guess. it was turning out country. ick. i told sharon though that i would record it when im done and send it to her so perhaps i will finish it someday. not like there arent others still unfinished though.
somethings, perhaps, are never done. after all, the ocean is never full. and its damn hot/cold on the beach depending on which side of the umbrella youre on. the carpet smells like dog no matter what you do and you dont fool around with jim. fact is, that i hope our children look like you should relieve all doubts. we shouldnt have kids. there is a mental block there. there is a physical block there. a moral block there. too many blocks. i hate to say its all up to you but it probably is. im weak. and there are too many blocks.
i feel so safe in this place. it only occurred to me last night that we are on the bottom floor of a five - and sometimes six - story complex. it never occurred to me before that if i look up there are four more rooms directly above me which may or may not contain people much like me. and yet, the walls arent crumbling. the rigidity is amazing. all those people wont die and i wont die even though they are hanging in space above me. strange. it also occurred to me, angela, that every word i read you have read. all of a sudden i cant help but wonder where you were and what you were thinking when you reached that passage. i want to see the look on your face when you read that line that made me laugh. it feels like that.
i lie in bed at night with my headphones on, dreaming of kissing her. not who you would think. sometimes its the singer, sometimes a random girl i saw on match.com. sometimes it means something, mostly it doesnt. sometimes its just a song. i lie in bed feeling every note, seeing every sound, in between sleep and wake, conscious of my body because it hasnt moved in an hour and is getting tired. i wonder if anybody else can hear me. i look over and check my phone for messages. curse under my breath. wish i could play that, assure myself i will soon. (do you think dave grohl ever gives his drummer tips?)
i would like to stop writing about myself and all i think and do. god knows its never interesting. mostly it just helps me figure it all out for myself. i was thinking the other day that if i really do take philosophy at wake forest that it will give me something real to think about. maybe then it will get interesting. till then though, its just angry words for girls.
what if i asked you to choose?
posted by sunshine at 12:08 AM
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