[Monday 7.5]
[Today 8]
The hours of jackhammer outside drove me to plug my hears
with headphones and with new sounds much needed I finally downloaded
“Handwritten.” I knew I’d wanted to listen to it with headphones in by myself
so it would just be my head filled with the music, too selfish to share it with
the air. I stuff my eardrums when I was tipsy and sobered up throughout the
album.
It was everything I expected, songs that made me jump around
a gyrate like I’d never do in public, and songs that made me think, and a song
that left my tears racing for the floor.
Right now I’m bouncing on an 8. I want to run, I want to
create, I want to punch, I want to sex. Today my passion is bubbling into my
throat and I keep choking it back down.
And while I bake cookies and live in the house, I’m sharing
with the least ideal person ever. And it helps. I like remembering the girl who
ran off to other cities and followed her silly heart. I like remembering the
sex that affected nothing and nothing affected it. I like remembering star
gazing and wondering if he’ll take my hand.
I like remembering the pain and heartache. I remember it
like the feeling of blood running down my arm. The cliché of feeling alive.
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