And I'm sitting at the computer and it's 2:30am and that's not surprising really because it's the way it is every night, and I think maybe I should sleep but I don't need to wake up until 2pm and I'm shocked that 2pm is still pretty early for me to wake up but then again I'm not really shocked.
And I'm wanting a cigarette more than most things that I could want right now at 2:30am but because it involves finding my green thongs and finding my keys and leaving the house and opening the door and walking down stairs and staring at stars and thinking a lot I'm not sure I'm up to it but I know that as soon I finish writing this I will get up, and find my thongs, and go down and stand on cement and smoke and probably enjoy a little more than I should.
Then I'm thinking about the voice behind which I think might be called Thom or Tom or Conor or anyone really but all that matters is they are sad anyway and that's what I feel like listening to because the air is cold but my fingers aren't and I like that and there's something warm about Thom or Tom or Conor or anyone singing to me.
And I'm wanting to lie in bed with someone that isn't Simone and is that girl at uni who looks like Phoebe Cates if Phoebe Cates was anglo and had punk rock hair but I know that sometime this week I'll probably be in bed with Simone, kissing her on the neck maybe and maybe I'll want to kiss her mouth while she holds my hand and there's nothing wrong with that, but something tells me that as she holds my hand she will feel more than me and maybe that disturbs me, but I'm young and so maybe it doesn't, maybe it doesn't disturb me that I mean too much to her too early.
Maybe I don't really care.
But then, fuck, maybe I do.
And I will have that cigarette now.
And I'm wanting a cigarette more than most things that I could want right now at 2:30am but because it involves finding my green thongs and finding my keys and leaving the house and opening the door and walking down stairs and staring at stars and thinking a lot I'm not sure I'm up to it but I know that as soon I finish writing this I will get up, and find my thongs, and go down and stand on cement and smoke and probably enjoy a little more than I should.
Then I'm thinking about the voice behind which I think might be called Thom or Tom or Conor or anyone really but all that matters is they are sad anyway and that's what I feel like listening to because the air is cold but my fingers aren't and I like that and there's something warm about Thom or Tom or Conor or anyone singing to me.
And I'm wanting to lie in bed with someone that isn't Simone and is that girl at uni who looks like Phoebe Cates if Phoebe Cates was anglo and had punk rock hair but I know that sometime this week I'll probably be in bed with Simone, kissing her on the neck maybe and maybe I'll want to kiss her mouth while she holds my hand and there's nothing wrong with that, but something tells me that as she holds my hand she will feel more than me and maybe that disturbs me, but I'm young and so maybe it doesn't, maybe it doesn't disturb me that I mean too much to her too early.
Maybe I don't really care.
But then, fuck, maybe I do.
And I will have that cigarette now.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
chriskaasi:
yeah -- you can literally post anything you feel like -- i'd even re-post this journal entry.
illbillzillbub:
mate we should hook up for a beer or seven sometime!