in the paint in the ceiling i can see people's faces, sometimes because anything is what you need it to be. you can tell by your hands that they can shape things into what you need, into what you want. sometimes your kind of person will never be happy with what they have made, everything is done with deep breaths, careful consideration, and i can start fresh. there are parts of you that you can wash away, other things will float away all on their own, but there are things tattooed on to the back of your neck that you think are gone but i look at them every day. i don't know what it is i am working so hard at, but in the meantime, finding everything that feels good and looks good and tastes good is more important than having any sort of direction.
for the rain
nothing i have is perfectly composed, not my words or thoughts or myself.
i think it's okay. chaos theory.
outer space
the storm comes and goes but the ocean remains and the sky remains, it will always remain...
i often go out pacing when all i want to do is stay inside
and look out the window with you
waste time
i miss things in straight lines like colors in a rainbow or the margins on my paper or silence
you are learning to speak your mind and the more you do the more i fall down this hole, the less i can speak in a straight line
i remember walking in your dreams
i like things that are beautiful, like you, but sometimes i think to keep it up we will just have to keep on building strange and wonderful machines, machines that make our lives work in synchronicity, oil them, fix them, it will be hard
maybe, baby, you could keep me up in bed
i don't care. i don't know where your heart is, or if you have one, or what it wants. maybe i have your heart confused with mine. in any case, if i had intentions they would be bad intentions.
or maybe you can keep me and my mind occupied
my winter lungs
i have this knack for disappointing people
i am just finding the quickest ways to pass the time, the months. i know they will never happen fast enough, or fast at all. but anything that involves my hands is so hard, they pull at my heart and i hesitate. so i sleep, then everything is gone but then i dream. i've never been able to remember my dreams before, or my nightmares.
8 & 9
Shoe swap, coffee, piccolos, beautiful people, glasses, silence, fire places, garland, It's A Wonderful Life, tea, cigarettes, separation & social anxiety, scars, pianos, sadness, caffeine buzz nicotine buzz happy buzz sad buzz buzz buzz always buzzing always crashing, Old Boy, coats, hands, spices, soup, silk, dj, scarfs, months instead of weeks, salt water, tears, smiles, hugs but no kisses.
shape shifting, uplifting
a person can't keep changing. you can shift and form and shape, but eventually you will have to be something. "if you whittle too much away you are left with a toothpick", you are left with nothing. maybe you won't be satisfied but there is only so much time. you need something, you need a core.
i did everything for you
it's funny when something will take over your life; everything is from one point of view and in terms of one thing. i don't think it's a good thing to be defined by your relations with other people but maybe it is the only thing other people can see you as. maybe that's all we really are, all i really am... other people. being alone is healthy, but being uninvolved is deadly. i hope that all people can care about, truly, is other people's hearts. because when you are stripped bare and lose everything...
human skin can be hard to live in
today i felt how much you care and everything was okay. that's all i was waiting for - for you to tell me that soon, it will be alright. change is good, yes, but sometimes all you need is what you have always had.
i am learning.
