Mood: jonsing Lights atop of high tension towers fade to black and then back to red. It must have just gotten dark not too long ago because the horizon had a fading blue gradient still. I felt alive and vulnerable. I recall it being beautiful. There hasn't been a time that has matched it in a long while. This urge for a constant flow of newness is a tiresome burden. These memories trickle in and out of my mind at will. It's true. I left my heart in Sacramento. I've never been the same since. In good ways. In bad ones. Mostly in bad ways. If I had any of it to do all over again, my impulsive side would say yes, but my logical side knows for certain that I'd never be able to handle such a thing ever again. From being smitten to shattered was an explosive rocket ship ride that ended in tragedy. I was pathetic. I'm not much better off now. The captain's gone mad and the ship has run aground. He'll go down with his vessel in a drunken stupor until the final shadowy realization that he was at the end of the world, and the rare few in Columbus' time were right--the world is flat. Cuz lord only knows it's getting late. Your senses are gone so don't you hesitate. Move on up the hill, there's nothing there left to kill. Throw your two-bit cares down the drain.
So I'm picking up the pieces and I'm putting them up for sale
3:25 a.m.//03.04.07
Sound: Beck -- Nobodies Fault But My Own
[previous]������[forward]