at least you don't dress like a jackass.

To risk losing my cred as quite the moody one, I reckoned I could focus on the positives for a moment like I used to.

It's an odd sensation to live in this city. To both love and loathe it simultaneously. While manning the helm towards getting the hell out of here, I've gotten quite caught up in how much I've changed in my time here. As Natalie and I sat on a bench in Central Park this evening, as the sun slowly set behind and the lights around us came to life, reflecting across the pond, illuminating the tiny creatures and creating shadows on the faces of the people milling about, secrets unraveled freeing thoughts formerly unspoken. Part of me wonders if I'd have the guts to do half the shit I do if not for the perpetual beat down. We're proud, I guess, to still be here. To not have abandoned ship after a year.

I wonder if I'm missing much. Though the thought disperses when I pedal hard and then coast upon potholed streets, fresh cool air skimming across my skin, willing my brain to hear only my breath. I guess you're not supposed to play the game of comparison. But, with a mind that tends to pace, I drift into a vision of the other side. Who am I in this city? Who could I be with this man? It's daunting to grow older and see paths fade into the distance. To risk letting go when all I want is to hold on.

title less. / i worry too much.

I finally got to have a good long session with the ol' soul twin (via phone, but we do what we can...). Having realized recently how small my circle of confidantes seems to have grown, how frustrating and, dare I say, frightening it feels to not be able to speak candidly as frequently as I imagine I should...I dunno. A relief.

I still feel kind of lost. Hitching myself to distant stars does not quite lend itself to a strong sense of place. Instead, I drift.

// (two days later) //

I've gotten in the bad habit of letting the entries stew for a couple days before posting them as is which ultimately makes me want to take back some of the shit I say. But, not really. I kind of swear allegiance to honor the exact bullshit I write (a.k.a. feel) at the time I wrote it. It's realer that way. So real. haha.

Why do I have to be so goddamned moody all the time? I'm a fuckin' grown up. I wear shoulder pads sometimes (I know, cue collective disappointed sighs of disgust) and I know how to make espresso on the stovetop and I can write up a professional email when some fucker owes me pesos for work I did. But still, can't I be a kid? I'm not asking for full reliance on someone older and wiser.

It's like this (pardon my step away from the usual lyrical articulation)...yesterday, LM and I had ridden our bikes down to Prospect Park, and after having laid out our sheet and set out our bounty of farmer's market snacks, only then did we notice the teenaged couple and the insanely awkward (to us) PDA going on in the shade of the tree nearby, partially hidden by drooping branches. I mean, after getting over being hilariously scandalized, I get hung up inside my head (of course, I would) about how much I miss that sort of reckless abandon you own as a kid (and maybe if you're a freak. ha!). Be it straddling your lovaaahhh in the park, trying to eat their guts with forceful tongue and meld your bodies as one even though denim lays in the way, or you know, tagging in the dark, driving around scream singing with the windows open wide and focusing every moment on being loud and living. Maybe it's this way, and I sort of fucked up at some point. I get moments of it periodically. This giddiness of being alive. But, I just wanna get loose, son. And not give a fuck. I want to be free, maaan.

bad hands.

I feel young, because I feel foolish. Something in uncertainty causes me to feel as if I no longer have a tight grip on the reins. I fluctuate between carpe diem and que sera.

"I dream about what could go wrong."

"Do you live like what could go right?"

It's funny how we can so accurately advise one another, so intimately understand one another and yet, struggle with the application to ourselves.

And I feel the distance between us. In a way I had not yet experienced. And it frightens me to feel so selfish...maybe not selfish per se, but carrying expectations I didn't know I had. Poorly timed expectations.

there isn't much that I feel I need.

I just wish you would slow down and stop and be with me.

Rings removed from fingers one by one, and you turn on the lights, killing the darkness.

Can sound waft through the windows? Licking, light air with a whisper of autumn.

two parts.

Initially, I just want to talk it to death. To let the words filled with faulty logic and wavering reason slip out of my mouth and pool on the floor. But, I know better. I kept scrolling back to what was said to let it hit me again and again. And you should know I want your name, at times, to reverberate inside of me, filling every inch of my being, every cell, every beat and breath. Because I know you.

The music plays on. Echoing in place of you. Moments when I realize that this song forever wraps us together. I shut my eyes in the dark, and so often see you.

//

I woke up today. And saw your message. And I worried about you. Pulled myself up, pulling that oversized shirt over my body and out the door. For a couple days, one thing and now another. How it all shifts. The day slowly passed, rain in sheets and sliding in rivulets down the windows, captivating until I catch myself drifting into thoughts yet again. I focus all my energy, closing my eyes, willing the distance to close, placing my hand on your shoulder, so you can still bravely face forward, but know that I am always there. Assuring myself that I am not being selfish in doing so. Even on the surface, I see your strength. In so many ways, you never needed me. And yet...I long to be there. Fiercely loyal. Just in case.

errrrr.

There is so much I want to say that I cannot say in public. Out loud.