sometimes i wonder why i straighten my hair when all these little broken strands spiral in the tornado above the drain. i dont really know. huh.
i tie myself in knots sometimes to keep myself occupied, cross and uncross my fingers. i am reading the classics. i am not going to sleep on time and sometimes not at any time at all. i am struggling through this weird drought, this lapse in creativity and i am smiling through most of it now, not that i was at the beginning. and there are those few unfortunates who always collide with me on bad days and would probably beg to differ. i love life behind a camera lens. it makes the walls look more surmountable. i like lying in your room with no lights listening to iron and wine b-sides and crying because i am so fucking unbelievingly overwhelmingly
happy
i am happy in my skin.
we slept on floors and beaches, orange leaves and sand under our skin, and the stars hung so low they skimmed our heads. im not always remembering not always noticing sometimes losing my mind a little. we tried to hold onto it, that something thats not always tangible and lately difficult to ever wrap my hands around. we shook hands smiled free loaded at outdoor concerts lurked record shops, i stuck some commas and periods and punctuations in my thoughts. we whale watched and wondered
and lately i am thinking about joy division and keep on your mean side and i loved you more
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