When your ‘friends’ stop talking to you the instant that they have someone more interesting to talk to, and lie to your face about canceling plans. And people ask me why I don’t miss capital, nothing has fucking changed from last year. I’m still gonna be second place forever
I’m thinking about leaving and how I should say goodbye. With a handshake, or an embrace, or a kiss on the cheek, or possibly all three. Well maybe I’ve been wrong. Maybe my intentions are irrelevant. But honestly, it’s not just for me. We’ve both been so unhappy so let’s just see what happens when the summer ends.
My life’s a flower and it’s growing but I’m oh so insecure. And the trick is always knowing it’s the rain that keeps us pure. It’s the food for my mind and body, and it brings me back to earth, so when the sun rises I can shut out all my doubt. There is a light and it never goes out. I’ll burn a hole in my chest so you can see through.I’ll tell you things I thought I never knew. We’ll build a home for me and you.I’ll see the world for what I want it to be and nothing else.
Let’s run in fields and fear the dark together. Fall off swings, and burn special things, and both play outside in bad weather.
Let’s eat badly. Let’s watch adults drink wine and laugh at their idiocy. Let’s sit in the back of the car, making eye contact with strangers driving past, making them uncomfortable.
Not caring. Not swearing. Don’t fuck.
Let’s both reclaim our superpowers; the ones we all have and lose with our milk teeth. The ability not to fear social awkwardness. To panic when locked in the cellar; still sure there’s something down there. And while picking from pillows each feather, let’s both stay away from the edge of the bed, forcing us closer together.
Let’s sit in public, with ice cream all over both our faces; sticking our tongues out at passers by. Let’s cry. Let’s swim. Let’s everything.
Let’s not find it funny lest someone falls over. Classical music is boring. Poetry baffles us both; there’s nothing that’s said is what’s meant. Plays are long, tiresome, sullen, and filled; with hours that could be spent rolling down hills, and grazing our knees on cement.
Let’s hear stories and both lose our innocence. Learn about parents and forgiveness, death and morality, kindness and art, thus losing both of our innocent hearts, but at least we won’t do it apart.
“And it’s not that I’m so unhappy I don’t want to live any more. That’s not what it feels like. It feels more like I’m tired and bored and the party’s gone on too long and I want to go home.”—Nick Hornby (via bdmar)
it’s a cliff that i’ve prayed on before/ so much so that despite the fact that i don’t know if i believe in a god or gods anymore my fingertips they bear callouses/ my palms they bear callouses from pressing together so tightly/ i pray hard when i pray.
i’ve often thought that this maw in front of us was the end of everything/a darkness that consumed all, a black hole/ do you know that we are made up of the same stuff that makes up the stars? so, what flows through us may not be just blood but stardust?
and we are dying/ every second of every minute of every hour of every day brings us closer to that final day that final hour that final minute that final second that final breath/ which means when we run out of hydrogen we become giants, or super giants, or supernovas/ and if not that then we are simply stars whose ill-fated courses end in collision either way/ we’ll explode.
with this in mind i reconsider the precipice there is something beautiful in its blackness isn’t there/ something wondrous in its persistence in swallowing us all? the end of everything is the beginning of a brand new everything/ the end of this universe may be the beginning of a brand new one so that even now when my heart feels like the most congested intersection the world it is waiting.
i reconsider the precipice and so, in an effort to take part in reckless acts of self definition i jump/ as i fall/as i let that beautiful blackness take me into its folds i know that i will be okay in them/i know we, you and i, all of us/
September 9, 2001. Gary and I were skating at a hospital on top of a huge hill overlooking a valley. An ambulance came and took out a dead woman. Gary asked me why she wasn’t moving or blinking. They hadn’t closed her eyes yet. She must have died on the way. A car full of family and friends came in with the ambulance. They were all crying and hugging each other. One woman screamed hysterically and grabbed at the woman’s body asking her to wake up. I had to tell Gary that her soul went to Heaven. I didn’t believe a word of it, but I knew it’d be easier for him to understand. Two days from now, at 9 AM, the planes will hit the World Trade Center killing over 3,000 people. I will tell Gary that there is no God, and all of this is meaningless. But today, there is a God. And he has a plan for him. He doesn’t know it, but a year from now, our family will be torn apart and I will move far away and won’t see or talk to him for five years. And as we sit on the hood of our car, the sun goes down and he asks me what I want out of my life. I tell him I don’t know. On and on we run away from the things we are afraid. On and on we run away from the things we are afraid. On and on we run away from the things we are afraid. I don’t tell him about the dream I had the night before where I’m riding in a car full of strangers and singing to some song I’ve never heard and smoking a cigarette and we swerve off the road and hit a tree. I go through the windshield and hit the edge of a fence, dislocating my jaw and flipping me into a wall where my neck is broken, and my skull is fractured. I bleed to death in excruciating pain.I will have this dream periodically until I meet all of the strangers, one by one introducing them all to one another until we are a close group of friends. I will set these events in motion, and I will die. But today in the warm light of the sunset, I don’t see it. I just see the sunset. I smile back and shake my head. I have absolutely no idea. I am afraid.