vi var alla unga, mer eller mindre begåvade och vi var vackra



I am coming to certain conclusions, I guess we didn't have the same views at all. I got so tired of hearing your words. the same words, over and over again. I overdosed on them, and the trip wasn't even that good.

when there is something I must do, I find the time for everything else. this is how it should be, except for actually having the time.
I am trying to read journals about disney, it makes me sleepy. it made me almost cut my hair off, starting a new life. I already miss that thrill, maybe I should move north. these people makes me feel old sometimes. I love a couple of them dearly, but not being in a constant k-hole suddenly makes me the outsider.

maybe scottland? I can see myself running on the highlands. looking for monsters and letting the wind blow for once. being so perfectly imperfect. I miss home. I was alone there, I brought my dog to the docks, wandered around. looked at the fishes and the boats. sitting with my back against the tallest building listening to the red house painters in a walkman, pause-rewind-play. I miss texas riot control, his alias. we would get drunk and he would teach me about film and music and who to trust, my first best friend.
he is far away now and I sometimes think I should see him when I go home, but there would be no point. he doesn't have that influense anymore, nor does he want to have it. I still have our teenage conversations printed. his mark left forever on my arm.

No comments:

Post a Comment