It's hard to stand this ground. It's hard to not fall back when you talk to me. It's hard not to take what you say and let in drive in right through my skin. We'll just be friends, 'cause thats easy to say. Oh we'll just be friends 'cause I cant let go, and you can't say no. Oh what a dirty little mess we've dived into now. You've got mud on your conscience now. I took my hand and rubbed it hard into me, now I'm just a little hard to get out. A real bad stain, I'm such a little shit of a stain that's almost permanent now. Oh I don't wash out so well, no I wish I'd dissolve. But we're standing at the end of our plank seeing who will fall first. 'Cause we're trying so hard to talk like it's nothing. And we're damn good at small talk pretending on the other end we're not falling apart. Oh we'd be a good movie, a great book to write. I'm so amazing at pretending, I sometimes fool myself. yes I'm so wonderful now, I'm just updating my ipod with dashboard and damien. I lay and fall into my own thoughts, and then their words and maybe I think everything is really worse than it is. Or maybe I'm fine, but this depressing music makes me want you closer, makes me think I'm hurting inside. Oh but it's fine, because we're still friends. Yeah it's fine 'cause we still talk. Oh it's fine pretending it's fine just being your friend.

You're right. I said "nothing could ruin this." I lied. I lied. I lied. I get caught up in the way things fit, the way it all flows through my lungs. I fall in love too easy, I throw my heart in before I take a closer look. It's not you girl, and all this time I almost had you believing it was, you finally saw through me and realized... it's me. And I'm going through my things trying to throw everything out the resembles you, until I feel like I might as well throw my whole room out and start a new. I wish you never listened to good music, 'cause now I'm only stuck with shit cd's to listen to because every other one has you written all over it. So this is good. We'll move on and I'll try harder everyday to try and forgive myself for squeezing so much life out of you. And I can't get stuck behind the lines of "oh if only I could go back I'd change everything." because thats not real. I'm trying to be real again. Goodbye.

She doesn't know anything of what I try to tell her. I start then I stop, because either two things can happen: Situation One : She won't listen completely and will get upset before the rest of what I need to say has left my mouth. Situation Two : Jealousy. Hurt. Stomachs turned inside out. And what's it to her anyway? Some things don't need to be said I say. Somethings are better left at peace. It's like stirring up dirt that could be better left in its place. I never boasted to be good at this sort of thing. I never said relationships or lack there-of were my forte. Because it's not bad. But hey I'm not saying it's good. Baby, baby, baby. baby. I dont know what there is left to say. So I think I should start this conversation over. I try to say what there is to say thats been turning over my brain the last few weeks. I have this knack of starting what I want to say but being quite good of changing it into something completely different. Mid way through sentence I think it is indeed better left residing behind my teeth. So here I lay, beating myself for nothing. For things I dont even have to tell you... but yet my conscience feels I must spill all over you. Girl. girl. girl. I hate your kind. Over and over again. I am cornered behind a dozen. I am catching myself saying things to them to lead them on. Over and over again. I am warding them off wondering where they got such ideas. So the story quite literally always went, I want them to want me. Even when I only want one. I want them all to want this. But my words are stuck trying to fit through the gaps in my lips. I didnt do anything. But I feel I've led a few astray.

I don't ever stop to think my actions may have consequences, until once again I'm left turning in my bed hating what I've done and the position I've put myself in. And instead of fixing them, I just think harder in my head how I wish I could go back and take back what I've done, or just make the situation completely disappear. But what good does that do? I'll just avoid it until it inevitably blows up in my face. And these lies I create keep getting thicker and more diluted until my feet are so deep in them I can barely keep my head above them. One limb was caught in the web until I struggled so much my whole body became immersed. And now I am quietly gasping for air in my cocoon I've spun around myself.

Oh my stomach. I've done it in. fuck 'em hard. fuck 'em long. I dont give a fuck if it gives me two seconds of thinking about nothing but where are my shoes. There will be no feelings involved ever again. There will be nothing invested for being bankrupt is surely certain in the end.

We didn't know how lucky we were. Stranded behind phone lines. I'm wishing now this chord would be the noose to end this all. These late nights will be the thing that kills me. I know I"m alone without your voice tucking me into sleep. I know I'm reaching the end of the rope going crazy not being able to tell what's going on. I cant open my mouth to speak but only to put my lips to this bottle that makes my liver scream. And until this room fades out of vision and my stomach stops turning from you but of consumption I know I'm safe. I cant concentrate on conversation with friends with you walking in the back of my mind. My stomach wont sit still, it refuses to cooperate. I'm physically ill, but its what I deserve. My insides I feel slowly decaying within are saying "you did this to yourself, you hurt her you deserve much worse." So back and forth with the war inside my head. Maybe what we had was wrong, but it was all I had. Maybe what we had didnt make sense, but it was the only thing that seemed in place in my life. and thats that and i'm waiting for phone calls i know will never come (pacing back and forth debating whether or not to dial) and i'm checking for messages i know arent there (and even when i know my inbox is empty, it still hurts more not seeing your number) Now I'm sending out messages for any open holes for rent, any one big enough for me to crawl in and seal off. I'm beginning to hate day light, I"m beginning to hate smiles and the people that wear them. My light is gone and any smile I maybe once had has been ripped from my jaw. I cant believe this had to happen to make me "more happy" because as far as I can tell I'd be happier seeing my head slice through a table saw. i just wanted to tell you i love you i just wanted you to know i messed up

I’m intrigued, really. I imagine what it’s like in the life of her. She wakes up before the sun even sees the trees. Depending on the morning she’ll either do herself up or just throw on her jeans. The drive to work is only made better with music to help her pass the time between reading bumpers and eyeing hubcaps. She slips in to work to sip on her chai. Today's a tea day you see. Let’s her eyes adjust before they get glued to computer screens and ears to receivers. Making more eye contact with blueberry phones then with boys like me. My body couldn't compete with how much action that phone could give out, my mouth could grow tired with the stupid things that flow out. She reminds me of me, but on such a different level. I’ve got more face time with my work then my life. I’ve got e-mails and pay checks to replace my friends voice mails. “Chad come out. Why don’t you ever come out to play these days?” Every things business, even these shows I attend. Oh every things business even these cds I spin. There’s so much going on, but so little to give out. And no one understand because when I get them on the line, they want to do the talking. And if there’s one thing I’m good at its the silent game. And my friend wants to go out and off my tongue rolls “I have to look at my schedule.” “It’s just dinner, jesus don’t you eat?” So I type her messages hoping her schedules clear. So I’m typing words she has to balance in. Every other girl always had the time. Every other girl always put me straight through on their line. Every other girl was on my schedule you see. So I find it funny looking through seeing what’s its like to be on the other end of me. It’s so frustrating when business interferes with communication skills I used to have. I type like I talk and it doesn't feel any different. And it’s not that sad because I’m really happy. It’s not that bad because she eventually writes me back. It’s strictly business it feels like, its strictly business I know. We’re only 20 I know, you know?

My nights don’t know the word sober anymore. With the fleeing of the sun comes the popping of bottles tops or flames against green. Tonight my name is written all over a little blue pill with the impression of two hands in the shape of a heart. I’d like to think maybe this is my heart, these are my hands, this is my brain I’m frying away into oblivion. My girl she shakes her head, my girl she doesn't like it. “Chad baby you cant go a day without it” And baby I know my limits and I know how it’s been since my mamma passed away. I got this dependency that's pulling me through, and if it gets me there I'll ride it all the way. So let’s see honey... one blue pill. Four water bottles in a green back pack across her shoulders. ONe big city with my name written all over it for just this one night. I can wait so patiently for my blood to start to flow and my pupils to dilate just like I was waiting in line as a kid at the ice cream truck. I’ll walk these city streets until the lights swallow me whole and the ground opens up and takes me in. Slowly my veins open up and my senses become senseless until I start to realize what they meant all these years. I wish someone would touch me. I cant stop touching myself. I can’t stop dancing with these girls. I cant stop feeling anything I can put my fingers to. I feel so good... “its time to go” I feel so good... Until.. The bass in the car feels like it will make my insides burst out my pores. Until we are stuck in bumper to bumper traffic and she’s rubbing my back.. “baby just breathe and relax.” but that's so much easier said than done right now. I can’t stop shaking or feeling like my stomach is gonna come out my neck. The cars to my right feel directly on top of my lap. Everything’s closing in and I can’t unbuckle myself. I don’t like this feeling, I don’t have any control. I’m so scared my legs are shaking against the dash. I wish baby was here to throw arms around me and slow my breathing down to any normal pace. Her touch would feel like velvet, Everything feels so good. Everything feels so smooth. I forget the world to rub my legs. I just want to forget the outside to rub my fingers through my hair. Baby this is ecstasy.

I can’t force these words anymore than I can make myself purge after I’ve littered these floors with home-brew. She said “baby please write for me.” So I try to push ink across notebooks to see if anything worth anyone’s time shows up. My rooms grown smaller as my material possessions stack up. The walls aren't moving but they’re getting closer to pressing my body between them. I wish they’d squeeze me like my mom’s lemonade and find those creative juices I’ve heard so much about. Then maybe someone would take notice that I’m more than a body filling gaps between oxygen and carbon dioxide. It’s hard though to find something inspiring when routines running my life. I’ll find myself walking down the street backwards just to see if I’ve missed anything only to find myself saying “god you’re lame.” So here I sit as my mind starts craving a high. I wish chris would come home so we could search our phone books trying to score an eighth. But with the increasing temperature filling my room I’m suffocating... quickly losing any motivation to move or motion towards opening a window. I make myself sit here and suffer as if I’m punishing myself for doing nothing. Boredom makes sex start to crawl over my brain. Her sex is all I crave these days. It’s wearing my body thin. Just a quick fix I say, but I know good things come to those who wait. But waiting never did anything but make my hormones jump. So here I sit planning my next attack. I’ll just wait until she’s home, you see. I’ll just wait. Waiting makes it better. I’m waiting on her to make it better.

We’re living in two different worlds, you know. Sometimes its hard to let the truth slip over lips, but maybe its better then keeping it caged up inside. It’s hard to remember where I was at 3 years ago because it seems like eternity to me. who I’ve become is completely different to the person I once knew in highschool. Sometimes it gets me wondering what person you will grow into 3 years from now. It’s strange for me to witness drama I thought I left behind when I was handed my diploma. I forgot how the highschool girl went to work on eachother, leaving eachother for the vultures. I’m not complainng, I’m just comparing. Sometimes I wonder if I’m that creepy guy. I hate when friends say things they don’t mean to offend you, but they slip anyways to make you think twice about everything your doing. “I’d never go out with someone in highschool.” Ridiculous.

I’m hiding like an ostrich in this bed waiting for her to come find me. face planted, burried, stuck between pillow cases. it takes 4 bowls to make her hate me. i know. i counted.

Finally these wheels hit concrete facing the direction home. I wonder what she’s thinking and how I could possibly fit into those thoughts. It may seem cliché or make me into the billionth guy to write that line, but I'm so uninventive sometimes. Kinda makes me question everything about myself and how unappealing I could be to anyone right now. These insecure moments in my life where I couldn't hate myself anymore. Maybe she woke up this morning and missed me, or maybe she was in such a hurry she pushed back my existence until she had time to remember it. And when she looked at that face in the mirror did she admire that beauty that's tearing me in two right now? I fear the thought is keeping me from looking at my own reflection knowing I’d want to beat this face up. I’m not good enough. I’m too ugly. Maybe since I’ve been gone she finally realized she’s too good for me. I imagine her getting up and dressing for those boys at school. But then again... sometimes.. I think too much. This drive drags on for what seems like days. I’d die just to see a bar of reception on my phone. I’m coming home. Don’t forget me yet. My mind is broken down. I miss her and no words can convey that well enough. I just need to hear her say my name and whisper the she loves me before I fall asleep. And I’d sit and listen to her breathe as she slept and I’d never wish to be anywhere else. To have no other moments without her in them. But this car seat is home for now, and these thoughts occupy time. Just minutes closer, but not close enough. ........................................................................... This guy’s laying on his break lights miles outside the next sign of civilization. The front seat is staring back teasingly almost saying “I’ll get there sooner than you.” Any thought at this point is welcome just to ease my mind from thinking about my full bladder and how it deals with windy mountain roads. He’s probably from Kansas, or some place of that like. So used to flat plains and corn fields, these California mountains have his foot permanently hovering over the break. I realized partaking in the cursing of the driver ahead with my father and brother was not improving my situation or my blood pressure I’d sink into my ipod. Ever since I was a kid when someone annoyed me I imagined seriously destroying them. I would have to bite down on my tongue and a take deep breath until it passed. But here I am now biting my tongue and envisioning tailgating this cum wad and slowly pushing his car off the cliff watching it crash and explode as it scraped and bounced against the jagged rocks. This could mean I’m insane or could just be my very upset, and now full, bladder speaking.

I wish she was here. Ten rows back from the front, I only know because I counted. My foot’s stuck to the floor and the reminants from the last movie shown here. Pictures flash so fast in front of my face it’s hard for my brain to keep up. I’m just itching to move my hand to the seat on my right to have it find hers. I’m dying for her warmth tonight. I’m dying to find her next to me in this theatre. My breathing seems so loud in my head, I wonder if she’d notice. I’m searching in the dark to find her, hoping when my arm reaches out it will find her sitting next to me. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what’s happening to me. She makes me nervous she makes me confident She makes me contradict everything about myself. She kills me, she absolutely kills me.

You're beautiful. It hurts.

I used to write your name all over this notebook. Look where all these scribbles got me. My stomach turns with every reference to your existence. Contact with your life is so much safer kept at a distance. Your this fire I'm drawn to, but once too close I just end up getting burned. Even if I catch myself realizing I've gone too far- I still proceed hoping for a new outcome once again. Yet the story always unfolds the same. So what else am I supposed to do?

I hate to tell the truth.. but everyone would be better if they never met me.

This is nothing new No no just another phase of finding what I really need Is what makes me bleed And like a new disease she's still too young to treat Volcanoes melt me down She's still too young

She’s never easy to write about. Maybe at one time these pages were what brought her to me, but now no word is ever good enough. As if she would expect more than I could give, and even if that’s not the case I’d hate to let her down. Sometimes I get these feelings that rush through my body just hearing her talk-- like they want to explode through my finger tips and grab her and never let go. Sometimes it’s so much it’s hard to breath. So I only have these simple terms to try and convey any of these feelings, but none seem close enough. More percisely, when I see her face I feel like an army is tromping through my veins and my stomach may cave in due to the time bomb left inside. She’s the drug I’m constantly left feining for. ”I’ll sell my kidneys on the black market my love just to have one more taste.” Shoot her through me, just do what it takes.. I’ll do anything for this. So in this constant search to find any possible mean to communicate these affections my mind once again is barren. I’ve tried a thousand times before to write anything of meaning, anything that might make her experience what I was trying to express. But.. nothing. My pen traces over the paper, until ultimately I throw it away and begin anew until there is nothing left but a waste basket over flowing of mispent words. Next time it wont be so hard when I rip my heart from my chest and throw it against the paper. the way the blood would drip would prove more than any pen could ever write. She’s not easy to write about. Maybe one day I will find the words.

So this is what it's like to miss you... I dont' want to ever grow used to this. Hope you're thinking about me too.

There’s so many words stuck on this tongue. I feel like this doors jammed and my jaw is lodged between. If stares were comparable to the jaws of life, these girls would have saved my speech patterns ten times over. But I’m too caught up in nothing that is consuming everything inside of me. Starts with a hit or two, then maybe I’ll take a few more drags until the ceilings caved in and the walls give out. And the smallest thought creeps over my brain clouding over my eyes. I’m bloodshot and cotten mouthed. My brain gives in and the thought grows so much its completely consumed my body and mind. Starting off so social at the party until backyard trips turn bad. I wish these things spilt from my mouth because I think I’d feel so much better. But I’m trying to moisten my mouth with beer because the sink seems so far away. So lets talk antics with the hormone driven girl next door. Anything to keep the thoughts from consuming much more. The truth is what the battle is over tonight. Do you really want to know the truth? They may be better to rot inside my head- I’ll just let them take me and spare you this, becase in the end you know I just love you that much. I don’t know what happened tonight or what those words or lips meant, But I wish I could disappear completely.