im not going to write about her

fuck it...
sometimes
eucure is all you need when-
break-
you dont have no direction-
and-
you need something really big
and-
you fall in love-
pause-
and it really is what you need-
cause-
the world is crashing down
and the drugs dont work-
break-
and fuck it
you cant do that shit to yourself no more
cause books, and people, and music- in a word beauty really really are truth like that urn said so long ago, cause sometimes the world isn't too much with us-
catch-
and the romantics just make you giggle

for manic and for depression

some things get all better
and some things just get worse
cause some things change
and some things dont
and
chicago
sounds real good right about now
but i still hate making decisions
without
you
well as for now i'm gonna hear the sadddest songs and sit alone and wonder how you're making out...

come on babe, why dont we paint the town....

again for her, she wont read it anyway

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted,
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this!

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow;
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me -
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee
Who knew thee too well:
Long, long shall I rue thee
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met:
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee? -
With silence and tears.

once more

dont feel bad for me
i want you to know
deep in the cell of my heart
i really want to go
there is another world
there is a better world
there must be
there must be
im crying
its rather embaresing
cause im in public
but that song always makes me cry
and the smoke gets in my eye
and the scars tissue up
neopsporins no good
when uncle bic comes to town again
nothing is sacred
this place is a prison

id be happy to die for a taste of what angel had

i dont know where to start or where to end
this is supposed to be a spiral
but it feels like a sick fucking circle
back there and here
nothing productive
kept btl
but i cant stop thinking of you
i read the whole fucking thing
again
for like the fourth time
all the way through
and so much that made me smile
and giggle like schoolgirl
but then

"Last night was devoted to nostalgia.  I spent a majority of the night/early morning crying by myself, sorting through boxes and boxes of pictures.  It was like I was slowly tourturing myself with memories.  The more I sorted through, the harder it was for me to stop.  The notes you wrote.  The tapes you made.  The flowers you sent.  Every sticker you ever stuck.  I saved them.  I kept them.  All of them.  Until last night.  I threw away memories with each letter and balloon and every fake fucking picture with your stupid fucking smile.  I burned them out of my life with every stick of incense I lit.  I hate the fact that you can manage to make me feel this way after five months have gone by.  I devoted two years of my life to you.  Two whole years.  The only thing I got out of it was a bag of trash and a profound hatred for anyone around who happens to be happier than I am.  Fake.  Fake, fake, fake.  You make me sick.  You make me hate myself and everyone else.  With the exception of you.  But she's no exception.  She is the worst of all.  I hate her because she stole you away from me.  From us.  I hate her because she's you and you're her and because you two embody everything that we made fun of for those two years.


I don't care how pathetic and disgusting this makes me look, but I have to get it out there.  So you know.  So I know.  I'm admitting defeat.  You fucking ripped me to shreds. "


i cant believe it ever went down like that
i cant believe it
i cant believe anything anymore

i cant stop thinking about you

this place is a prison

tell all your friends

your never gonna know
your never gonna read this
your never gonna know,
how often i think about you
your never gonna know
what it feels like
to be alone- to be alone without you
and its sounds creepy
but its not like that
and you used to know, exactly what it was like
cause your never gonna know
how many times ive cried
cause your never gonna know
well wait
i wont blame it on him
its not him
its me and you
and lets face up to that
but cause your never gonna know
how much i love you
ill forgive it all
just call

more on growing up

two
zero
it seems unreal
but its been 3 months already
the words are still ringin
'youth's the most unfaithfull mistress'
and its like it was the other night
bob avakians on film again
and im tryin to work
and the monsters and critics
can't hold my intrest
cause i gotta tell you
i can't stop thinking
growing up
it wasn't supposed to be like this
we were supposed to be together
and we were supposed to stay 18 forever
but with lofts and redwine and byron and keats
and of cource
bob avakian
but its just more coffee
and more cigarettes
and beowulf
im gonna stay 18 forever

sweaters and books and coffee and cigarettes and death cab

another fall
same old fucking planet
another world-
-possible??
i still feel the same way
isnt this supposed to be growing up?