And it’s music that has made me want to come around again, to look behind, to go on that journey to a place where I’ll never find myself again; just a travesty of sentimentality, even if I could look at the sun again and not feel the fear of going blind.
Even if time does not exist, something still passes for it around here, I think I have just gotten the hang of walking around the plain of consciousness and emotional discomfort, that I know I can shake hands with myself.
A ballpoint pen cap, a covered window 12 floors up, missing you, and all things I can notice at the moment, yes, this all makes sense again. A wonder if I am going down again, going down in a glide and that makes it all feel so warm.
And I am in a bit of anxiety about that.
But oh, let me see the night again, even without a guitar for a moment, I just want to reach and know that my fingers will grasp something instead of the evening air. Even so far from everything familiar and comfortable. I would love that, I miss myself and I guess holding myself in all its loneliness is a comfort far from anything.
How are you?
Answers, and more questions, but I am looking forward to it because everything seems suddenly new to me again, like rain and sunsets during certain days.
You know, perhaps I’ll see that moon again, even blurred as my near-sighted eyes can afford. It will still be a sight.
Aug 27, 2005
Aug 8, 2005
Solitude.
Now that I have the time for the lady.
Desperately wanting,
And the satisfaction of being there is elusive. Staring at the skies, I just realized, does not help that much; barely, in fact.
Like the slightest breeze, and it’s a gloomy day.
15 floors up, and I can see the ocean from here and I miss that too.
I don’t miss the sun. One of the original sad men, that’s why the preference for rain.
Not the golden globe.
I am going to hold somebody in my arms soon; in about two months time.
and Solitude’s not being an easy lay;
being far is cracking me up in the most unexpected places, and I know that Solitude’s a good glue.
I also want to go home.
Desperately wanting,
And the satisfaction of being there is elusive. Staring at the skies, I just realized, does not help that much; barely, in fact.
Like the slightest breeze, and it’s a gloomy day.
15 floors up, and I can see the ocean from here and I miss that too.
I don’t miss the sun. One of the original sad men, that’s why the preference for rain.
Not the golden globe.
I am going to hold somebody in my arms soon; in about two months time.
and Solitude’s not being an easy lay;
being far is cracking me up in the most unexpected places, and I know that Solitude’s a good glue.
I also want to go home.
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