Sunday, May 30, 2010
Sunday, July 20, 2008
we'll still have our stories
I'm looking for somewhere to stay. Somewhere empty, but with plenty of space that I can fill up. I've been around. For more years than I'd like to admit, I've called places home and then left when things got too heated. But I'll start over here, now, not completely ridding myself of every other place but really just treating them like childhood stomping grounds. I can walk past them and remember holding hands with new friends and never being able to "do" the monkey bars, but then as I leave, I'll remember why I always swore to never go back.
There was always so much more for us, but we knew we had to leave to find it. We said we'd never find it in that stuffy little town. Guess we never have, but when I look around, it sure makes sense. We've never left.
This isn't like me. This is open. Anonymous, I guess, unless you know me by chance. Congratulations (?) if you do, since I don't know how anyone would find me. I've always shown off my hiding places. Even that cluster of trees in that field; the one that was cleared ten or eleven years ago, and now it's an expensive neighborhood. The place I used to go to think and pretend is now somebody's bedroom. They might feel weird if they knew that one.
I want to say things and run the risk of them being seen. I guess it gives me a little rush after hiding it all for a while now. But I can't be tracked with this. It's as safe as I've ever been, and the letters on this screen just smile with that thought. Anyone can see it, but nobody will get attached enough to care. I'll be left alone and if I'm going to keep living with my head the way it is, it'll teach me that alone is okay.
Hi, I have an imagination. It's the greatest gift of all. Sadly, everyone else lost theirs years ago.
This is a last ditch effort and I'm making it up as I go along.
There was always so much more for us, but we knew we had to leave to find it. We said we'd never find it in that stuffy little town. Guess we never have, but when I look around, it sure makes sense. We've never left.
This isn't like me. This is open. Anonymous, I guess, unless you know me by chance. Congratulations (?) if you do, since I don't know how anyone would find me. I've always shown off my hiding places. Even that cluster of trees in that field; the one that was cleared ten or eleven years ago, and now it's an expensive neighborhood. The place I used to go to think and pretend is now somebody's bedroom. They might feel weird if they knew that one.
I want to say things and run the risk of them being seen. I guess it gives me a little rush after hiding it all for a while now. But I can't be tracked with this. It's as safe as I've ever been, and the letters on this screen just smile with that thought. Anyone can see it, but nobody will get attached enough to care. I'll be left alone and if I'm going to keep living with my head the way it is, it'll teach me that alone is okay.
Hi, I have an imagination. It's the greatest gift of all. Sadly, everyone else lost theirs years ago.
This is a last ditch effort and I'm making it up as I go along.
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