And who asked you anyways?

I'm the rainbow in your jail cell
All the memories of everything you've ever smelled - RHCP

They weren’t the best. They weren’t even close. But it didn’t matter because despite everything they weren’t, they were everything they needed to be, and that was what I needed.
I met them on accident, a twist of fate. The loves of my life. The friends I’d been waiting for, and I cant say if it hadn’t been an accident I would’ve met them anyways. I would never have talked to them. There is no way on earth we’d have similar interests… right?
Misfits is what we were, its what we still are. I have never once experienced that feeling of truly fitting in one place, and this was the closest I got. A bunch of bricks thrown in a pile together cause not a one was perfect enough to build a wall. I sure as hell didn’t mind and I don’t think anyone else did. We were not raised to fit. We were born to stick out like sore thumbs. That’s why we all got along. There was nowhere to belong and we all had that in common.

For the tacks in your bed

The end of paralysis, I was a statuette
Now I'm drunk as hell on a piano bench
And when I press the keys it all gets reversed
The sound of loneliness makes me happier

- Bright Eyes


And can it possibly be I'm a sucker for all these things?
I am full, to the brim, with lovely unmistakeably lovely thoughts that are beyond plausa-possi-bility. Sometimes in a totally surreal unhealthy way I would rather exist in my thoughts and forget to actually live. Sometimes that effort to make my life worthwhile just isn't worth it.
And in that isntance I would rather seclude myself in the expanse of my mind, where I can be whatever or do whatever I want. It's a beautiful thing.

I don't know how to interact. I think I'm just really good at faking it. I think I might be void of that ability to just truly connect to someone, and the people I do the people I do I never connect with long. Like a puzzle piece that looks like it'll fit but never does.
I'm just a puzzle piece without my puzzle.
But what a sad life to just fit.
I would like to do more than that.

Music

I'm in love with Mary Jane.
She's my main thing.
She makes me feel alright.
She makes my heart sing. - Rick James

Something old and something...

The same thing I would want today,
I would want again tomorrow. -Bob Dylan

Hands up.
Take me in.
I give up, hell I give in.

I’ll fall into your soul and I wont even mind when it absorbs mine, for the greater good of course. God just when did this all begin? The falling and absorbing and giving and taking? Christ I’ve forgotten to remember things. And when he looked into my eyes god I swear I melted, I did. Right then I just liquefied and sunk to the ground, and oh hell I couldn’t care less. Look at me again, I dare you look, I’ll probably morph into a gas and float away.
There’s another thing you do when you look the wrong way. It makes my blood freeze, right in my veins, and I turn to ice, my whole body. You can thaw me, melt me, float me any form of matter I can become with just, one, look.
Pathetic.
You make my heart stop. Stop. And I want to scream that at you, and make you understand that but you don’t, wont, cant. I hardly even know which “nt” it is anymore. On the bright side I’ll never see you again. And I think I’ll just stay here melted on the floor. If you ever come back I hope to god you’ll solidify me again, with good reason of course.
And im so blocked right now. I cant think of anything else but your voice and that goddamn smile. Its not even rare or special its just there, in the back of my mind. And I promise I’m not obsessing or writing about you again, but god that’s a lie. We know that’s a lie because no matter how hard I try to keep the words blocked up in this fucking small brain of mine it just comes back to you and an explosion occurs. A mess a fucking jumble of adjectives and verbs and nouns and commas and it just needs to stop spewing. I need to get the taste of these words out of my mouth, figuratively of course. They’re like sewage. I know my words sound harsh but its only out of affection I speak them. True acidic affection that only a woman could feel.
And when I rob myself of these words and send them out to roam where they might I hope to god that I will never think them again. Words don’t last forever, these words they’re only temporary. But don’t ever get me wrong, I don’t love you. I have never loved anyone and would care to never own up to it.
But your voice, your calm sometimes lovely voice is reverberating in my brain with the few words you’ve spoken. And that, that haunts me. But I’ll think about you this once, just this once, anyone, just once, and never think of them again. Once these words dry out, and their meaning lost, you will be too. I’ll have done the smart thing and kept my distance. But take this as my one bitter confession, I have thought about you. I have.

ramblings

Her words flowed out like the music running through her body. God what a rush, all the forgotten feelings associated with, and pointedly, her writing. She wasn’t quite sure why she’d missed the feeling so much, the release of the thoughts, the emotions clogging up her mind, and yet in this instance she could not find her release. So near was she to smashing her head against a wall, ‘I cannot do this’ she thought, ‘not again. I cant confess my sins to a paper and have nothing to show in return, except the gratification of few faithful readers. Why do I so oft put myself through this strenuous laborious task, which I find myself to be a little less than ordin’ry at. Wont someone correct my faults? And let it be shown, all my scars, my wrong hoods, the incorrect grammer that I am so prone to showing. Where is all my honesty, my vulnerability that they who wish to feed upon like vultures to a rotted corpse? Yet, here come all the meaningless words, like a release to a dam that once been cracked could not be sealed.’ She could not stop the steady flow of verbs and adjectives rushing into being around her. this was never what she wanted. Just justification, she just wanted to know why she wrote with such an unstoppable force that she herself could not control. ‘Why can I not harness my own abilities, my own words, my own mouth, my own heart?’ she knew deep within her core, her reasons for having such a lack of free will. she was the universes’ bitch to do with as it pleased. Without the great mother of everything her existence was everything but what it was. No longer existence, but an idea amoungst the thoughts of many others, ‘the universe created me, and oh mother she will break me.’ She sighed letting her dramatics take over ‘Oh mis-use me like an excerpt from a book’ she thought at the universe, ‘take my life and make it nothing but a chapter in the lives of many, and the happy ending to none, for what ending could run happily if I were a part?’ she then wiped her weary eyes wondering what thing could drive you to feel such a sense of apathy for your exitensce. ‘Through no fault of my own was this feeling made, it was thrust upon me like that of a burden from a father to a son, of which I am neither.’ She glanced again over her incessant ramblings and thought, ‘if shakespeare can do it, why cant I?’

scrap?

She put her fingers to her neck and closed her eyes only for a second, quick enough for no one to notice. Quick enough no one would see I had to remind myself I was alive. My breathing sounds shallow to me, she told herself. Slower. Slow down. When she pried her eyes open she watched the world spin past her. I cant keep up. I cant slow down, I cant speed up, im stuck. Stuck in the quicksand we call time, which eventually drowns us all. Her eyes moved to her watch, my eyes moved to my watch. 10 past, Im late, she’s late. We’re late. The both of us. Our legs move, in unison almost as if we’re one. Are we? She is in my body, or am I in hers? We walk, long strides with heavy feet. All I see is our feet, I wonder if she sees the same. Theres a chill going down my back, I ask her to put on our jacket, she responds. We hop across streets and crash into puddles, allowing our jeans to soak up whatever wreckage it can en route to her destination that I cant remember. She knows, she’s taking us, and all I need to do is let her. Stop I say, wait I say. And she stops, and she waits for me to give her the cue its ok for us to leave. I sit, she’s confused and I can feel it. Why here? Why on this block. She looks up and she sees. The glimmering windows and all we see is our reflection looking back at us. The brown of our hair is not as shiny as I once remembered. Its dull and frizzy. I take my palms and push it down around my face, but it doesn’t help. The hair will do as it will, just as she. Our face is pale, I cant remember when we were last out. I turn my cheek and I cant help but notice the apparent jutting of my chin, protruding farther than it used to. I’ve lost weight. She grabs our stomach, empty. Just like us. I cant remember our last meal, that could account for our lifeless looking physiche. We need to eat she tells me, I don’t want too I snap. HONK.
We spin around to watch a funeral procession drive by. The tinted windows reflect the city around it to keep us out of their loss.

?

When you met him the first thing you see is the way his right eye hangs lower but only slightly from his other. His mouth cocked to the side in a smile that could shatter the heart of any girl who looked his way, but he wasn't georgous. No he wasn't one of those perfect boys, the annoying ones who know how perfect they are, but he was perfect in the only imperfect way i would even think to call perfection. He was just an ordinary boy, and she didn't know why but she loved him. Her mind raced when he wasn't around, and her heart did the same when he was. There was a tingle that began in her neck, and shivered down her nerves when he touched, her hand, her face, her back. The slightest contact and she would be fighting back a shudder. She loved all the things about him, and he would never know. He was not hers to keep, nor did he even comprehend that she might want to. She loved him, and he loved being her friend.