But I saw he got married and it really bummed me out because even though I know I probably live a way cooler life than he ever will or ever thought I would, I just think it’s really unfair that some people are allowed to breathe without you. That’s maybe the greatest tragedy in life, beside like, unexpected deaths. I know the answer to this because there are many people out there who are my someones that I’ve chosen to live without, but seriously… How can someone live without you? How can someone get married without you?
I know the answer, I know. I know what the deal is and even that, statistically, their relationship will end and that the more successful of the two of them will wind up paying for the other for the rest of their lives long after they are no longer legally or spiritually bound to one another, but it’s hurtful.
if it’s not wrong of me to stop and smell the roses (and what a good year it was for them) why do i feel demolished when i pull my vehicle over to envision what once was considered grand architecture in a world past
maybe i am unable to believe there was a certain craftsmanship that made beauty form and content follow (or was it the other way around) WHO CARES it’s still gorgeous in any light at any juncture in any state of repair (or dis-)
staring at those remnants of brick and stone and glass and metal and steel and brass that once were lights fixtures and decorative sconces and pained glass created by only that imaginative desire to achieve greatness through cantilevered balconies and textile concrete blocks always reminds me
i will never be great
and recreating everything else that never should’ve been (like punctuation and corrective lenses and truth and reality) would be too difficult in this late hour
so questions of is this real or am i dreaming are better left asked on a tuesday morning when the street cleaner acts as an alarm clock
One time in high school I agreed to go get ice cream with a guy but then he decided he wanted to go to applebee’s and get a salad instead. So I drank water as he told me that he thought he was a virgin, but one time he went to visit his brother at college and woke up naked in a bed with three girls.
It’s like, could I never be with someone who likes the brownie edge pieces because I think that’s weird and gross OR do I want to be with someone likes the brownie edge pieces because they’ll eat those ones and leave the good middle pieces for me?
There’s a persona I take on when I’m at work, it’s kind of like when Brenda had to hold down the Peach Pit that one day for Brandon. She put on a costume and pretended to be like, a waitress in a diner in New York or something. Mine is less stupid than that, but still more stupid than I try to be in my daily life. It’s like, a version of me that wants to get along with people, that is not only friendly, but outgoing and even sweet.
But I just want to ask, do you ever stop what you’re doing and think, “I really fucking hate myself sometimes” ?