angelsword

I'm alone, sitting with my broken glass
My four walls follow me through my past
I was on a Paris train
I emerged in London rain
And you waiting there swimming through apologies

I remember searching for the perfect words
I was hoping you might change your mind
I remember the soldier standing next to me
Riding on the Metro

I was smiling as you...
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Just as I was coming up on the borders of a good mood, a thought crossed my mind; a terrible secret from the dawn of our relationship comes roaring back to the forefront of my thoughts, to torment me, like it always has.

Falling together in the cold grass holding hands.
On the hill side watching stars descend.
Forever seems like just an empty promise we spent so long ago.
But we were younger then.

Each sour word
Sounds so absurd
But lingers in the air.
While happiness
In an ashen dress
fades into the years.
Each lonely hour
My heart has slept
Has drifted back to me....
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I wonder if it would be easier to just sever any ties I may still have with my old life. It seems I can't pursue any of them without invoking some melodramatic wrath.

When the fuck did all of my high school friends become such assholes?

In order to put in an offer, I need to be able to write a $500 check as a "good faith deposit."

Fuck.

And it's now been 5 months since Anabel and I had sex.

No fuck. >_<

Once. Just once. Just once I'd like someone attempt to win my presidential vote by presenting the laurels of their candidate. Don't present me with why I shouldn't vote for the other guy; tell me why I should vote for your guy. Pointing out faults in the opposition doesn't curry any favor with me; it only makes me think your guy doesn't have enough credibility...
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First and foremost, my expos about the whole Tricare bullshit has been put off for too long, so here it goes. Back in June, I received something in the mail about having payments made from my Social Security payment to cover Medicare. Thinking this was duplicate coverage to my Tricare insurance, I called and had Medicare discontinued. The next month, I called Tricare's offices, thinking...
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I can't seem to avoid images of people loathing their illness-stricken states. It's almost as if the entirety of what makes up the Media is following me, plotting new and exciting ways for me to feel like shit. Here I was, thinking I'd be safe in a wholesome samurai flick ("Love and Honor," from the same director of "The Twilight Samurai," Yoji Yamada). But no!...
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A Spoonful of Memories
We walked through the twisted trees for days. At least, I think it's been days; this ersatz sun doesn't seem to follow a pattern, rising and setting randomly, in varying parts of the sky. Yet, despite this rather disorienting change, it didn't seem out of place. Much like the leaves hanging black on their branches, the erratic nature of the sun...
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