Sean (darksoul) wrote,

  • Music:

Snippets of this and that, songs heard a thousand times but did we ever hear the words?

The streetlight
It shines through the shades
Casting lines on the floor
And lines on his face
He reflects on the day

It was an awful day at work, likely to be repeated over the next three days. It's hard to even feel grateful to have Friday off at this point. I'd talk about it, but who would care? Bitching about office life is wasted on anyone who doesn't work in a cubefarm or doesn't have an interest in my particular office drama. Hell, no one has an interest in my general drama, much less any particular drama. That's not to say that I really have an interest in any of my own drama either, just to say that it's awfully lonely living in a world where no one really even has an interest in anything that proves you exist. And maybe someone does care, but coming home night after night to an empty house and an empty life of empty evenings between concerts blinds me, keeping me from properly appreciating it.

Don't you know I'm numb, man, no,
I can't feel a thing at all, 'cause it's
All smiles and business these days

The person I am here and the person I am when I'm around others are sides of a coin that just spins and spins and spins. Eventually they'll need to reconcile their differences and become a whole person again. Hopefully I don't need to hire an accountant to balance the books to make sure it all works out kosher with IRS guidelines.

If you wrote me off
I'd understand it
Cause I've been on
Some other planet

I've been a jerk. You probably don't read this anymore and I wouldn't blame you for choosing not to. You came to me looking for forgiveness or at the very least a simple acceptance of your apology. Instead I blew up at you and came across as far more hateful than I wanted to. We got caught up with each other at a point where neither of us were prepared for what was to come. Revisionist history and the passage of time has wiped away most of what actually happened, along with a friendship that I regret losing. That's not sentimentality or a general sense of depression assigning greater value than is deserving on our friendship, but an honest feeling from somewhere deep in my icy heart. I've been trying to work up the courage to email you or call you and try to have an actual conversation about things, but I doubt either method would get me any further than this will. Of course that may just be my brain psyching me out before I even take the first step, but I'm a sucker for trusting my brain over my gut since my gut and my heart only get me into trouble. Anyway. I'd like to meet for coffee sometime. Let's talk about spaceships or anything except you and me, ok? Or him. I know, it's selfish of me to insist on boundaries before you even read my trite apology, but I'd be lying if I said that I wanted to hear all about the burgeoning life in suburbia. Time heals all wounds, but time devoid of any contact, while it may feel like a million years, has a habit of failing to heal wounds completely.

come on baby,
now throw me a right to the chin
don't just stare like you never cared
I know you did
but you just smile
like a bank teller
blankly telling me:
"have a nice life"

come on baby,
now throw me a right to the chin
just one sign that could show me
that you give a shit
but you just smile, politely
and I grow weaker...

Posts in my journal have too many layers to them. On the surface, I've been listening to Ben Folds too much and was influenced into writing a post riddled with his lyrics. Dig a little deeper and you pick up on other music that I've had on repeat (Say Hi To Your Mom, William Shatner, Sage Francis). If my brain was more functional at this point, I'd probably be able to pull out some High Fidelity influences and a reference to Back To The Future that I craftily snuck in. Rather than continue to ramble, though, I think I'm going to get some sleep

and all this wandering...
Tags: female problems, personal writing project

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