Astonishing how a little sobriety and a walk around the block at night listening to Counting Crows can make me feel just like the person I was all those years ago.

It's been a while ( Read more... )

The sudden onslaught of sobriety seems so much more sensible, or maybe just bearable after dark. The air feels so clean, more necessary, actually substantial. The concealing layers we wear all day long finally fulfill their practical purpose, no longer just the illusion of security. Invisibility through solitude, rather than demeanor ( Read more... )

Dear Dani-O,
please... tell everyone I'm sorry. I am.
Luke.

Should I try or should I write ( Read more... )

Granted, this form and level of doubt are in (nearly) all probability a futile compensation for a lost childhood, but it's getting out of hand ( Read more... )

Where did I go wrong?

Nice guys finish, if they're lucky, right where they
started.
Sitting quietly in the back next to
one
true
friend.

"Wrap me up in cellophane and tie me to the window pane,
just to see how much I can bleed."
-Asher Habit

I can't help
but wonder
who the Fuck
told you I was
capable
of taking this much.

Where
has this gone/
is this going/
are you coming
from?

"I'm sorry, -so-fucking-sorry ( Read more... )

"It might seem like a dream, but it's real to me."

-

<-Call if you must, but there's a (insert whatever number you feel you deserve) percent chance that no one will pick up the phone.
<-Come to the door if it blocks your way. Knock to your hearts content. Don't mind the music. There's no one to open the door.
<-Write words of worry when you wish ( Read more... )