and in this city in this night under these streetlamps with me in my cordouroy jacket and you in your green sweater and matching shoes. for some reason i can't say anything. ever. i can make the attempt. i can think about it, but i can't ever do it. action eludes me. i'm not really sure why. i guess complacency. no. that really not it at all.

it's because if i don't do anything about it, i can still dream about it. if i make a move, i can't dream anymore, cause there won't be any hope anymore. if i don't do anything, i can still go home after i drop you off, after i stand in front of you house for an hour talking to you under the streetlights, i can still go to bed and stare at my ceiling and think about what it would be like if i did do something. and my dreams can still put a smile on my face.

but if i act, then i won't be able to do that.

i think that thats easily the most fucked up logic possible.

ever

what the fuck am i doing.

i mean honestly

matty h can act.

matty h can make a stand.

i need to learn how to just take whatever it is that i want

wait,

no

not take

go for

attempt.

ugh.

on a completely different note, doesn't eric estrada look like a total fag?