Like drinking poison. Like eating glass.

March 27, 2009

I realized on my walk home that I live in a bubble where Jello or ramen is a well balanced meal and speed walking to the stop and then running down the stairs to catch the train constitutes a work out.

Where work ain’t nine to five but it’s from before when the sun rises to when they let you go home.

A bubble that’s reeks of every bad joke you’ve ever heard and tastes like cement and stale garbage.

My life consists of magical moments that are only interrupted by short bursts of city-induced anxiety and tragic stumbles of cracks in the sidewalk.

Half the time I find myself asking “How did I meet these people?” and “Why did I hook up with that guy?”
My only response expels from the crackling of the votives in my window sill.

I have a sizable decision in my immediate future and it’s one I can’t really turn to anyone else for answers. It’s not really a “Best friend/mom/mentor/therapist: WHAT SHOULD I DO?” sort of sitch. This is a “Heart, make up your mind. Although you do not have a brain, I am asking you to use your best judgement.”

In all honesty, I’m not ready to make it. My mind instinctively says “back off. no seriously. fucking BACK OFF”… because this has only lead me into trouble before. I seem to do everything with my heart. I work. I live. I give. Everything has so much heart behind it, I should have a bowl cut, a red ring, and a fucking monkey.

I know exactly how I will feel if I choose either option. I kind of depends on factors which are out of my control.

It’s difficult for control freaks to deal with stuff like that. Just so you know.

I’m going to go keep busy with other things. Or something. Making that captain planet thing took a bit too much out of me. I’m gonna go make out with my Passion Pit tickets because they are making me so happy right now.


It was all of my energy. More than I wanted to give, I am empty. I won’t give more.
I won’t give more/We just want more


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