:: Oh, Look, A Tumbleweed ::

:: Tuesday, April 13, 2004 ::

And after I scream out my throat, I think I'll find some place where I am all alone -- I think I'll rest there, where no one can find me and I will only awake to see that my world has suddenly structured itself to suit what I want and what I need. I'll be there, waiting, waiting, waiting. The sun will creep over the skies and I will feel it's warm light spalsh across the earth. The only way to breathe is not think about it at all. So as I lay there, not thinking, but simply being there, I will suddenly realize something, anything, maybe nothing. I don't want to be a person who can't adjust quickly. I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to. A person. Maybe they'll be there. Maybe it'll be a friend, maybe someone I don't know. If I stand upon a hill and start screaming perhaps I'll be heard. Perhaps somebody might finally see me. When I lay you in your bed, I'll only think of how peaceful it all could be. Nothing is like sleep; it's the moment you don't care about anything. I want to sleep. In that sleep, I want one tear -- just one -- to creep out of my eye. That's how I'll know I'm alive. That's how I'll know that I felt something. I would have loved to miss this pain, but I'd of had to skip the dance.

(Props for stream of consciousness)

:: Nick Tuesday, April 13, 2004 [+] ::