8:01 p.m. - 2005-04-25
Let's live like outlaws, honey
When was the last time you thought about that girl who you met at that coffee shop? Remember when you cared about whether or not she found her pets? There is obviously a language barrier. I feel your pain. I would have been confused as well. Communication just isn�t possible under these circumstances.
I�m counting my heartbeats, making sure that I�m still breathing because this dock is being flooded and your air is my carbon monoxide. We�re all catching fire with wet matches and breathing in every time you exhale. These roots are too overbearing.
Catching glimpse at over-styled trends that would break hearts is doing only that. Don�t get your hopes up, there are still a million fish out there. No one wants a fish. In fact, we all hate fish. They are too calm. Too independent. The aquarium is only fun when you are five. We just have to grow up too damn fast.
Summer is rolling in on a breeze that smells like spices and warm air. It�s suffocating and before we know it, we�ll all be in a trance caused by the season. You must be content with who you are. You must fasten your seat belt. You must fasten your tray in the upward position and extinguish any flammable objects. You must spend hours going places you don�t have maps to and writing letters to homes that you never leave in the first place. The idea of home is superficial. A family all looking for the same thing- a support system that rarely exists and evenly more rarely gives a damn about anything. Apathy replaces everything, but roots tie us together. Roots in clay pot, in desert, in grass, in rich soil, in carpet. It matters not. We�re all chasing our tails looking for something that hasn�t existed in years. I don�t want your poetry.
We rattle off words with singsong voices and write our verses in tree trunk. Forever. How everlastingly short. How terrifically microscopic forever is. We�re communists who assign forever- equally divisible. Three billion people who each live a second- proportionately. Forever in terms of seconds divided by three billion. How very tragic. I don�t want your forever. I don�t even want mine I want what I have. I want what no one can take away from me and I already have that. I want that for everyone else too.
As long as we�re around, let�s try to be friends and oh yeah, let�s try this communicating. I hear it was good for something once upon a time. We could be a fairy tale. I�ll be Pamela and you can be Doug, okay? Okay? No obligation, though, because obligations are oh so drab.
I�m bored with life.
