(no subject)
One day I hope to wake up and forget a little less because right now every morning that I wake up I learn something knew, but it never seems worth the sacrifice. I’ll budget you in for a memory, perhaps you’re worth the space. Your face is the kind that always seems familiar; one I’d rather soon forget. I’m sitting in a open space at a table with a bunch of casual individuals whom I’m sure at some point in my life I could find interesting, but right now all the trailing off makes me look forward to these moments; I tune them out to argue with myself. What kind of road are you waltzing down when you find your thoughts more entertaining then another warm-blooded opinion. Who am I fooling, childishly fidgeting, or was it nervously avoiding that certain person who caught my eye from the start. Can you tell the degree of my anxiousness by the depth of bite marks lining my pencil? It doesn’t matter. I’ll see him again within my dreams. So if we both continue to try and act like we are engrossed in some meaningful conversation as we all sit rallied around our circle of friends at some claustrophobic table, glancing away as if it weren’t intentional at all what does it really matter? I will see him in my dreams, or I in his, we both can avoid the awkward moments we’d encounter in reality. One of us will set the scene; him or I sitting on a park bench on some gloomy day, obviously disheveled and broken from some previous situation where life had led us nowhere but down hill. Downhill, why is downhill so bad? People spend their entire lives trying to climb some damn mountain and when they get to the top they realized they couldn’t sift through the fog well enough to see the landscape. Is a view really different from the top? You’re just looking down on where you came from. I’ll save the painting I’ve made in my mind where what I can’t see is something beyond this world. There isn’t any room for gloomy and disheveled days, no one is fighting about the type of sex you should fall in love with and job applications don’t ask you what color of skin you have. I’m tan. I check the box marked other and I write tan. I wonder what sort of reaction that causes. Oh, yeah, nothing is worth anything unless you give it a second thought. All that conversation about going with your first instinct was quoted by a half fast man, or woman, we can’t give way to sexism in a world of equality…right?