my friend i am sorry for this and for that and for all of eternities sunshines and spotless minds

my friend i am sorry for the stars and the sky and the too black night

my friend i am sorry for the sunrise and the heartache it causes

my friend i am sorry for bloodshed and woodshed and my grandfathers workbench

my friend i am sorry for all of this pain and this dark and this cold

my friend i cannot believe that such things happen before our eyes

my friend where have you gone

my friend i need you here

my friend, my selfishness takes hold of me

my friend forgive me

my friend, absolve me

my friend let it be let it be let it be

my friend, lets leave on a yellow submarine

my friend lets fly away

my friend remember me in red shorts and little boy hair

my friend remember me when i'm gone

my friend remember

my friend give me your heart and let me empty it like a wastepaper basket

my friend let me fix it

my friend, can i fix it

my friend i fear i can't

my friend i miss bikerides and laser pointers and waterguns and ankle injuries from b ball

my friend i fear i will fade away someday

my friend i'm afraid of tomorrow because i can never concentrate on now

my friend i am suspended between two poles and i'm scared i may fall

my friend will we be the same again

my friend we've come so far and i feel as though i've fallen so short

my friend i want you to dance on my grave

my friend, i implore you to charleston

my friend, i may be floating away like a balloon

my friend i want to go where no cars plane or space ships go

my friend kindess thou art a wickedness and i am wicked and you are pure

my friend your poetry brings me tears

my friend

my friend.

see, its cause i can't properly express myself in words a lot of the time. i suppose i'd say it but in saying it it leaves me open and being open leaves me weak but being weak with you i think would not necessarily be evil. in fact im sure it would not. which leads me to question many things. cause really, if i can actually just be for a bit, won't i just explode into a fiery ball of light?

very often when i leave that building i wonder what it is that would happen if i were to just walk straight instead of turning right. i wonder what would happen if i was to hail a taxi and then tell them to take me to the airport and then buy a ticket and just not......tell.......anybody. not you or you or you or even her. although i should probably tell her.

and yet, every time, i still turn right.


i'm in one of those moods again when its so tempting just to put on my jacket, stick on my ipod and walk through the concrete shod streets that are ever so lonely in this gotham i call home or pseudo home or home for the moment or home of my self but which self is it that i'm talking about

way too many selves

we were discussing in acting class today how we really always just present ourselves. just different versions of ourselves. and therefore, what is self. is there really any such thing?

these are the questions that plague me on a thursday night when its 11:42 pm and i should be rehearsing a monologue or talking to my unbelievable girlfriend who may or may not be fiction or chilling with imac and megan or doing something anything something please let there be something what is something who is something am i something to you? is this something anything or have i given you a headache yet.

and this is where i exit in a cloud of smoke because i can do that on the internet.

its like a digital smokebomb a la the ninja turtles movies.