Empty (Wet) Streets at Night
You know...
Life is beautiful. I need to remind myself of this more.
This weekend is the perfect end to just two weeks of rebirth.
Feel what it's like to be new.
This morning, Jeff calls me over to his house. I still have some heads left over from last night, mixed with midis. We used this up, for a good, fresh-feeling start to the day. Jeff had promised Nick earlier that they would skate together, so we parted ways for a while. Jeff wanted me back, though, as I had a car. (My parents were in Mexico, so the car was lent to me for the time being.) But was later to me. I had plans.
My instinct led me home, where I suited up a bathing suit. Stripping myself of all else, I ran outside to the lake across from the house I live. At first, the steps I took were little and short, as the water was VERY cold. But as I continued forward, I slipped and went under, curing me of the anxiety I had of getting my balls frozen. After that moment, I floated in peace. The water was no long cold. Now, it was refreshing. The lake was the long-fabled ehpermeal Fountain of Youth. And here I was flaoting, basking in the healing power. The sun heated up my organs, and my eyes quited through the bright light above me. No swim was ever as good as this one.
My X-Box had Fear and Loathing on repeat, and I sat and watched this until I was roused out of sleep by my sister. She had bought a new car, and I had to drive her to pick it up.
That was the first time I could drive to Fitchburg without any tearful-memories crossing my mind. I didn't even realize that I had driven past her car, parked at the plumbing company she works at. I drove, free of restrictions, just me, my mind, and my music. The day was hot, but no enough to bother you. It was the perfect temperature. The sun had the same feel outside as it usually does to your cat when it sits on the windowsill, basking in photogenic warmth.
I made my way back to Jeff, and picked up his girlfriend on our way to a local agriculture group, Sholan Farms. Jeff and I always had a joke about that. Our love for the Wu-Tang had brought it to naturally rename the area SHAOLIN FARMS. Often times, we would both mock-fight upon saying this name. We pulled into one of the fields and walked long into them, travelling, exploring, as my Native American ancestors had once did. Natraully, they did this somewhere in the ancient Mexican jungles and feilds, but it's the same thing. Just a different local.
We entered the woods and came upon a lake. Jeff had his bowl, and I still had enough for a few hits. Jeff, Laura, and I all sat, comtemplative, staring into the sun's reflection of the clear lake water. Thoughts arose. What the fuck am I doing? And for the first time, I had an answer.
I'm smoking pot outside on the most beautiful day ever.
I feel the best I have ever felt.
I didn't need anyone else to feel this. I didn't need to share this moment with anyone I loved. It was for me. I felt it. All me. Long I believe in "true love," or how you're only happy if you have someone to yourself.
Not so.
I am fine on my own.
No, it's not about love, it's not about drugs, it's not about any shit. HAving to many thoughts have really killed... Me. Who I am. What I do. I am... No. I hate Mike. Mike was always a usless name, and I hate it. I need to find a name for myself, one who is who I really am. But I know who I am. I am me.
I'm the boy that you chased with a chair during a Bar-Mitvah.
Who you told on when we tried to watch "R" rated-movies when we weren't supposed to.
Who your friends used to make fun of, but you decided to hang out with me anyways.
Who when you were hungry, lent you money for lunch at school.
Who would jump on the table and dace to make everyone laugh.
Who fought firecely in friendly neighborhood water-gun fights.
Who almost feel into the brooke near the temple when we were exploring mountians of snow.
I'm the man who asked you out, one day, and you said yes.
Who drove half-an-hour and stayed 7 more hours to help you with a flat tire.
Who crashed his car driving 60 miles just to see a movie with his friend.
Who promised more than the world could offer to his love.
Who cried when you treatened to break his bones because he didn't undertand you.
Who cried every day and every night for three months after you left him.
Who called you at 8:00 in the morning just to wake you up, when you had stayed up late the night prior.
Who you used to romp in the woods with.
I am...
Well...
You know.
But I do believe there's more ahead that's worth it.
I have my hopes and my memories.
Once I have determination, I'll be invincilbe.
I will soon start updating in a new journal.
malachipena
I think it's time I killed Tab.
No, this journal won't be deleted. I plan on using this for a project sometime in the future. Plus, I like it for the memeories. I want to keep them all, good and bad.
But please, comment here if you want to be added as a friend to my list.
I'm starting straight, I'm starting clean, so wish me luck.
Godspeed and Goodnight.
Life is beautiful. I need to remind myself of this more.
This weekend is the perfect end to just two weeks of rebirth.
Feel what it's like to be new.
This morning, Jeff calls me over to his house. I still have some heads left over from last night, mixed with midis. We used this up, for a good, fresh-feeling start to the day. Jeff had promised Nick earlier that they would skate together, so we parted ways for a while. Jeff wanted me back, though, as I had a car. (My parents were in Mexico, so the car was lent to me for the time being.) But was later to me. I had plans.
My instinct led me home, where I suited up a bathing suit. Stripping myself of all else, I ran outside to the lake across from the house I live. At first, the steps I took were little and short, as the water was VERY cold. But as I continued forward, I slipped and went under, curing me of the anxiety I had of getting my balls frozen. After that moment, I floated in peace. The water was no long cold. Now, it was refreshing. The lake was the long-fabled ehpermeal Fountain of Youth. And here I was flaoting, basking in the healing power. The sun heated up my organs, and my eyes quited through the bright light above me. No swim was ever as good as this one.
My X-Box had Fear and Loathing on repeat, and I sat and watched this until I was roused out of sleep by my sister. She had bought a new car, and I had to drive her to pick it up.
That was the first time I could drive to Fitchburg without any tearful-memories crossing my mind. I didn't even realize that I had driven past her car, parked at the plumbing company she works at. I drove, free of restrictions, just me, my mind, and my music. The day was hot, but no enough to bother you. It was the perfect temperature. The sun had the same feel outside as it usually does to your cat when it sits on the windowsill, basking in photogenic warmth.
I made my way back to Jeff, and picked up his girlfriend on our way to a local agriculture group, Sholan Farms. Jeff and I always had a joke about that. Our love for the Wu-Tang had brought it to naturally rename the area SHAOLIN FARMS. Often times, we would both mock-fight upon saying this name. We pulled into one of the fields and walked long into them, travelling, exploring, as my Native American ancestors had once did. Natraully, they did this somewhere in the ancient Mexican jungles and feilds, but it's the same thing. Just a different local.
We entered the woods and came upon a lake. Jeff had his bowl, and I still had enough for a few hits. Jeff, Laura, and I all sat, comtemplative, staring into the sun's reflection of the clear lake water. Thoughts arose. What the fuck am I doing? And for the first time, I had an answer.
I'm smoking pot outside on the most beautiful day ever.
I feel the best I have ever felt.
I didn't need anyone else to feel this. I didn't need to share this moment with anyone I loved. It was for me. I felt it. All me. Long I believe in "true love," or how you're only happy if you have someone to yourself.
Not so.
I am fine on my own.
No, it's not about love, it's not about drugs, it's not about any shit. HAving to many thoughts have really killed... Me. Who I am. What I do. I am... No. I hate Mike. Mike was always a usless name, and I hate it. I need to find a name for myself, one who is who I really am. But I know who I am. I am me.
I'm the boy that you chased with a chair during a Bar-Mitvah.
Who you told on when we tried to watch "R" rated-movies when we weren't supposed to.
Who your friends used to make fun of, but you decided to hang out with me anyways.
Who when you were hungry, lent you money for lunch at school.
Who would jump on the table and dace to make everyone laugh.
Who fought firecely in friendly neighborhood water-gun fights.
Who almost feel into the brooke near the temple when we were exploring mountians of snow.
I'm the man who asked you out, one day, and you said yes.
Who drove half-an-hour and stayed 7 more hours to help you with a flat tire.
Who crashed his car driving 60 miles just to see a movie with his friend.
Who promised more than the world could offer to his love.
Who cried when you treatened to break his bones because he didn't undertand you.
Who cried every day and every night for three months after you left him.
Who called you at 8:00 in the morning just to wake you up, when you had stayed up late the night prior.
Who you used to romp in the woods with.
I am...
Well...
You know.
But I do believe there's more ahead that's worth it.
I have my hopes and my memories.
Once I have determination, I'll be invincilbe.
I will soon start updating in a new journal.
malachipena
I think it's time I killed Tab.
No, this journal won't be deleted. I plan on using this for a project sometime in the future. Plus, I like it for the memeories. I want to keep them all, good and bad.
But please, comment here if you want to be added as a friend to my list.
I'm starting straight, I'm starting clean, so wish me luck.
Godspeed and Goodnight.