the sky is turning orange yellow, it's gonna rain like crazy. good. let the raindrops drown out the little voices in my head, i need a good flushing, i'm ready to hold my breath.
why is it that when i feel like crap, some guy decides to follow me in his car and ask me to lunch? is it the tight butt? is it the hint of a red bra strap? is it the toned bicyclist thighs?
"you don't know me, i'm difficult. i'll push you to the limit man, i'll make you doubt yourself. you'll take steps forward and then back again. you'll be confused at what you're feeling, and that's when i always drop the bomb."
it's always an attraction to madness. like trying to pin jello to a wall. like waiting for a thunderstorm that never seems to come.
i'm thinking about moving, changing everything. there's only so much blessing of this apartment, let the demons stay, i'll pack and leave...