2008-12-30
out of sorts
We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate
So why'd you fill my sorrows
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why'd ya sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why'd you sing with me at all?
I'm feeling tremulous. I'm feeling something like a void, but it's not completely empty; that would be too fortunate. It's like the overwhelming feeling of emptiness, but something's there, adding a splotch to mark the space and distance.
It's not a void, because there's one singular thing in it. Me, just me. And somehow, in a way that defies physics, having something in the greatness of the nothingness makes it far more empty than it could ever be if that thing wasn't there. But there I am.
I'm crumbling a little, and I'm pissed about it, because I don't want anyone who takes the time to notice it feel worried or (more likely) uncomfortable. I'm going to avoid listening to this cd too often, because I know it's going to make me feel more tangled, and my knots are useless; i'm snagged on you and i'd rather rip and tear then hopelessly feel the tugs and stretches.
I know I have a lot to write. I'll find the time and mind for it when I can. But first I have to stop being such a big baby, and pack my bags, and finish these STUPID applications, and stop hiding my love from my friends. Why'd you sing with me at all?
leesah-likes at 1:41 p.m.