before we clear the accounts, leave it there

11:33 PM

Sometimes when I'm home, alone, in my bed, writing (like right now) I turn on really embarrassing and sappy love songs. And sometimes while I'm doing all of those things listed with the abundance of comma's, I lip sync and pretend I'm a beautiful 90's bombshell straight out of an Aerosmith or even Lisa Loeb music video. It makes me feel sexy, especially if the song is sexy. I'll look into my lamp because it has the best lighting, and I will sing with conviction every single lyric as if it's the absolute last thing I will say. Everything depends on the moments I tell you you're insensitive or when the lights go down, that is where I'll be found, among others.

This may mean something. It may be a way to cope with whatever I happen to be dealing with at a given time, or it might just be for no reason at all. It feels good. Lot's of things feel good these days, and lots of things feel terrible. I get inside of my head all too much and unfortunately it's really familiar. I remember how much I hate being here, and I also remember craving to have this feeling back. How strange is that? You want to have some of the most miserable thoughts and expressions you can think of? Well, yes, of course. Because that means you still feel, you still have feelings. I never want to not have feelings, even if it gets me into trouble. I don't care if it makes me look stupid or if it bothers some people. It's what I do and I used to live alone before I knew you.

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

And so on, and so forth. And switch tense. And go.

And in time it will become easier, of this I'm sure. You've done all of this before, haven't you? This is something you'll never rid yourself of. You'll never be without. No matter how many times you fail, or leave, or pretend something else is present, you know you'll revisit this time and time again.

Still it feels different. It's like, you're known. You're every move. When you're awake, what kind of mood you're in, what you're response will be. The thing is, you also know it's always going to be like this. Maybe not the same page, but maybe the same chapter. Book metaphors. Inextricably connected, as the poets say. You will always be this way.

There really aren't anymore excuses, they've all been exhausted. There is no reason to even procrastinate. That's the good thing. The bad thing is that you can't be the one to speak first. You always are, always were and now you have to give that part of yourself up. Does it mean that every dream you have had will immediately be delivered or does it mean that your life will be divorced of order and you won't be able to solve even the simplest of puzzles?

And that look. You know the look, the look of approval? The look that says yes, you finally are getting everything you deserve? Will you ever see that look? You long for that look, and the truth is, you may never get to see it. You may have worked for that look your entire existence and what if it's simply not in your cards? What if it's not going to happen to you. That look, it may not be meant for you, and that will subtly kill you over time. But at least you know you've pushed and you've extended, and if you fail, well then you fail, but you gave it a shot.

I don't know which is worse? The look, the anxiety or being the one to hold it all in the palm of your hand? Because really, you do, even if you don't think so. The situation is not that hard. The situation always gets you weak, but you thrive on that.

And if you don't get what you want? Then what?

That's when you take a step back and focus on the new situation at hand. The one that says you don't have to fucking listen to anybody.

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