Wednesday, November 10, 2010

I hate that some days I want another city, maybe another state over my head. I want to breathe new clouds that are probably just old clouds in a new place, since clouds work that way.

I want a lot of things though. I spend many hours day dreaming or writing fictional stories about people more interesting than me. But sometimes my want gets the best of me, convinces me it's need, need, need. Even though I know it's not. Or something in me knows it's not.

But with my hands around my own neck, it's my own fault. A human fault, or a fault from society, but a fault that falls on my hands all the same.
But, I'm hesitant to change, a little want can make this interesting.

4 comments:

grinning mouths said...

You should send me some of those writings. I'll trade you.

P.S. The notebook exists.

imbrilliant said...

Send it to me again.
We'll see what happens.

grinning mouths said...

You never sent me your return address.

Danni said...

I never got a return address either.
I thought you couldn't send letters without them, but I guess you can.

I think it's best people just don't know where you live.

You never know who you're really talking to on the internet.