i feel like a sad foreign film.

///submit to your impulses.///
find yourself alone once again.

current emotion:: the intro to brothers on a hotel bed- death cab for cutie

fleeting.
hopeless and destructive.
filter the words
exaggerated in my head.
exclusive,
inclusive,
you really don't want a relationship?

silent,
passing discursivly
there is no point.
everyone's words seem
distant, and faraway
it's like,
ear plugs
all their voices become muffled.



and i feel myself ----------------distant.

-once again.

ode to lack of mouse.

i hate how the font
looks on the blog
but when i type
i love how it looks.


i really need to figure this blog thing out.
it would be so much more simpler
if i just had a mouse...



sometimes i'm wondering if i'm more
committed to this than you are.
that wouldn't be as devestating as i would think it would be.


truly though
i need to figure this blog thing out
because from where i see mine...

it's just
lame.

sick day post [part one]

if i could write you a book
on how sorry i am
it's lines would scrawl
somewhere close to infinite
if i could open my heart
like the book it is
and let everything in
you be the first to know.