late, late, or early.. and still awake. i'll be going to bed very soon. there's a daymoon.. almost-daylight sky, but the moon's still here. it's a thin crescent; each corner a wisp like smoke from a pinched-out candle.
i have very little to say right now. i drank some rum and cokes. i don't like bars. i don't like people. i had fun, but i'm so antisocial. how weird. everything scares me, and i'd just rather be home if i think about it.. talking to y'alls.
short entry tonight.
write something to me.
i have very little to say right now. i drank some rum and cokes. i don't like bars. i don't like people. i had fun, but i'm so antisocial. how weird. everything scares me, and i'd just rather be home if i think about it.. talking to y'alls.
short entry tonight.
write something to me.
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
(See--you're in good company at least. Don't let it get you down.)
There are times that my head gets full to bursting with the volumes of uncertainties in the world I try to single-handedly dispel. A few hours before, I tried letting go of this all, and did my best to mingle with the bar patrons in the bar's eloquent spanish mission courtyard-style patio -- they even had a freakin' olive tree growing smack dab in the middle. Losing my mental weight in such a setting seemed an easy to do. But to no avail. I found myself slinking off to the corner store to buy my first pack of cigarettes in almost two months.
But at 2a (or so my dashboard clock says), my passenger-side friend and I were far, far away from any resolution, the stars were blotted out, the road was barely visible a few feet ahead of us, and the car was stuffy with the musk of three sweaty musicians. Yet I felt the freest I've felt in a long time.