i have so much going on in my head that i turned my computer on to blog. just to blog. i had to get it all down because i thought i might lose something. that's the kind've fear the words and their conjunctions feel. that's the kind've fear that i feel.
gentlemen, start your engines.
i meet someone new every day. every day. it's empowering. it's a revelation to the miniscule reality that i might face if i don't continuously put myself out there. if i resort to a life on an island. i'm having second third fourth and fifth thoughts about where i want to be forever. the real answer is nowhere. i want to... really, i long to be a traveller. somehow, someway, things might happen. the only way that they will happen, though, is if i end up making them happen. i talk a big game.
tonight, it was a french girl named Ellen (it could've been Helen, through the accent) who came back in just to hangout because she was "passing through." she came in wednesday night, buying things with family. her father, her brothers. and we spoke a little. mostly about where to find certain DVDs. lame. but she came back in tonight, looking for me, and talking to me, and still looking pretty great. at least, for a girl who i will only know for a day or two. she didn't tell me when she's leaving. but i feel like it'll be on sunday. all of them always leave on sunday.
you know, because life begins again on mondays.
even in europe.
i find it hard, sometimes, to get really dedicated to words and their output while music is playing. music that i care about, anyway. i get easily distracted by one of the two, either creating, or the creation. i'm never sure which one is more important. example: right now, the new post roman is playing and i want to give it my full attention, because it really deserves it. there's so much happening.
there's a thunderstorm brewing just on the outside of where i'm living. i think it's passing by, though. there was no real gradual process to it. it'll be gone in a half hour, hanging over the head of someone else entirely.
that's fine. headlights are still streaming in to our apartment complex.
i think of her less and less.
even though i wrote that, you need to believe me.
in the tomorrow which is actually today, i hope that i can see that light of day. i want cloudlessness. something beyond warmth. i want to feel something other than the insides of the walls. i want to hear my beating heart. i want it to hurt when i open my eyes.
i think next week i'm not going to sleep for the best reasons.
she'd never think it, i think.
i think it's the distance, i think.
if she understood, i'd say i can't understand it either.
leave it alone.
tell 19 year old me where he'll be today.
tell 19 year old me that this will even exist.
as much of failed attempt as a lot of it seems, for one thing, i've lost absolutely no one in my departure from home. it started feeling like maybe i had. the new groups of friends, the silences, the silences, the skewed text messages, and the out of importances. when i think about how it all really is, put up and held together by nothing different than A Home Life, I can see that I've only gained a greater understanding of who will be left when it's all put together at the very end. what's been the borders and boundaries, and what's been the heartland. and yes, most of who i've added is just more borders, more boundaries, and more peripheral. but some are lifelong lifelines, if i've got anything to do with it. the new area codes, and new sorts of dialtones. random exposure through vocal representations. some days, having to dial out of the country just to be remembered.
remember, the world's not falling apart, no matter how it feels,
because it's falling in place.