thistimewithlogic
The sounds of out of tune strings, mixed with the blaring trumpets, and frail squeaking woodwinds made a poor excuse for a night out. But it was the first time l met her. So, all things considered, it was the worst night of my life.
When l first saw her.. well, let's just say it wasn't love at first sight. lt wasn't that she was ugly or anything like that, just an air of being different that surrounded her and clung to anything and one she was around like a mist. lt seemed like she was just going to waste her life on spontaneity. Then again, what else can you do with life.
She hated silk. She thought it was too soft. Too fragile. That was understandable. lt was everything she had gotten away from in life. lt's too bad that she was too focused on being strong to realize how weak l was.
Every word we said was poison. We didn't poison each other though, by that point we were immune. We were just poisoning the air. People around us could tell what was happening and tried to stay away, but when the end finally came, well, at least the air was clear.
The last time l saw her was on public transport. l think she was wearing skinny jeans and a halfway zipped up sweatshirt with some sort of tee under it. Sometimes l wish l could live in that moment forever. Sometimes l wish l 'd never gotten on the bus.
There wouldn't be so frickin' many up in Ohio if we hadn't killed all the wolves.. kinda symbolic if you think about it.
Ha, succeed. A lot of people think "succeeding" is getting money and a car and a lover. ldiots. Once they get those things they'll understand how much they've failed. Succeeding is not something that can be done by obtaining things. Succeeding is a forever ongoing process. Material things are just an unfortunate side effect.
l've repeated myself over and over again, but each time it makes less sense. l always thought that maybe it would someday be understandable, but of course it's not. Repeating the same thing over and over again is just madness. Which makes my life madness...
The first time l ever even touched an acoustic guitar, was because of a girl. Not one l was trying to woo mind you, one that broke my heart. Yes, that is not much better in terms of cliche, but the truth is the truth... for the most part. So, anyway, this girl broke my heart and l was trying to learn guitar to try to forget her or to get her back or something along those lines. lt all sort of blurs together now. I didn't find any solace in music, none that l can remember at least, but this guitar did do one thing. It got me thinking. While l was playing it l started to wonder what this would do to me later in life, if l would even have a career in music or in art if that. Then it hit me: What the hell was l going to do with my life? Nothing to the point of an existential crisis, just enough to make me constantly worry. And worry. And worry. There would be days where l would do nothing but think about how l would or even could carve out a place in the world for myself. Just a small niche, l would think to myself, someplace that isn't complicated. That was around the time l decided to run away.
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