August 5, 2010 § Leave a comment

I used to fancy myself a writer of sorts. Until I tried to write something worth a damn, for an entire summer, and came up empty. I probably believed this because I was the only one in my family that created anything. It never meant it was any good. But I’ll continue to try.

And I’ve been listening to this mix I got almost two years ago. I thought that would help. But eh.

I wish I could form words profound enough to explain how I feel sometimes, but my verbal vomit is so child like. I hate that. I hate wishing for things and never getting them. Perhaps why I am still listening to this mix so long after the songs lost all significance.

“When you wake up in the morning, baby look inside your mirror. You know I won’t be next to you, you know I won’t be near. I’d just be curious to know if you can see yourself as clear, as someone who has had you on his mind.”

I wish sometimes that I didn’t take things so seriously. Except myself. I wish that I didn’t love so terribly, fuck it up, then latch on to it. Until I realize I haven’t been looking around.

The Hank Moody to my Karen could be somewhere in the background of my life as we speak, but I choose to ignore that. At least for now.



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