always take the easiest way out when stuck against a overbearing wall. I submit to the easiest idea that would provide an easy and ok solution. 

1.) Posts on the internet that in reality NO ONE ON THIS PLANET reads.

2.) Slow songs fluttered with female vocals

3.) Camomille Tea

4.) Lonely Motorcycle rides to dunkin’ doughnuts in western Mass

5.) Movies

6.) My bed.

7.) Paper and Ink

that the best relationships I form are the ones I form at concerts hundreds of miles away? The people I meet are so genuine and so happy. They are so glad to be sharing an amazing experience with a stranger. (This is also how I think sex is when it’s at it’s best.) Granted I’ve only been to maybe 10-15 shows but, every time I’ve met amazing individuals who I can recall to this day. It didn’t matter what band or artist I was seeing, the people just cared about each other.

     This is why I’ll be happy on the road. Maybe, people will see me and they’ll see hope within themselves. Maybe they will meet me and treat me as an old friend. 

     Maybe I’ll meet a girl who’s favorite color is yellow.

I feel as if my soul is tied into the voice of this beautiful being singing indirectly to me through the screen of my computer. As I lay here, on my bed with a half eaten sandwhich on my chest, I feel disgusted with myself. Her words rip and tear through every fiber of my heart and memory of my brain. She is successful and beautiful, I am lazy and deteriorating on the very sheets of my bed. I wake up every morning, a rotting peace of meat, until I take that first sip of coffee and then the morning awakens my being. Hers is the first face I imagine. She is like the tornado in my nightmares. Ripping apart a path to my frightened mind and heart.

The only time I held her in my arms… it was for 3.4 seconds and I can’t remember anything else. She is to be wed this month according to the eyes and ears of the interconnected web of vast knowledge. 

The beauty and truth of things and people in this world is being shattered and swept under the rug of commanding eyes and bodies. All I can think about, though, is how I don’t have her to sing softly in my ears as I lay in bed. 

I want her to be inspired by being. I do not want to keep her… I want her to want and keep me. 

This is an impossible and life long feat.

For my entire soul, I have to give this up. Enough is enough. This obsession needs an end. This tornado needs to dissipate. This anger and anxiety I have needs to sink from a flame to flickering embers… then the ember must be dowsed. It is a horrible sickness and kills me each and every day. My body writhes in pain at this realization. I have to find myself and stop burying myself in the beauty of fame and talent.

I have to give up.

I have to start anew.