R O C K in the U S A elvis had the right idea. he always said it best. the. first. real. punk. punk rock forever. punk. is. dead. it. died. a. long. time. ago. and still i move and move and breathe. and still everything keeps going at an uneven pace. and i rarely type paragraphs anymore. putting the words in order is hard enough. before. i. get. it. all. wrong. and. such. joe.joe. joe. joe. joe. joe. joe. joe. joe. i cannot get him off of my mind. and. i really should by now. because. it is never ever going to get better. yet. i dream. i hate him in and for and by so many ways. i hate him. and. the things he brings along. the words he says. the stories he tells. the everything about that thing. i would love to abandon the thought of him. the memory of him. along side the road wrapped in a sheet of plastic bound and gagged. and forgotten. the memories are what get to me. the memories of everything and other things and then more things. and these days i find it harder and harder to breathe. easily. freely. happily. "here sit by me" and everyone lies. i lie. i lie. and you lie. whether we or they like it or not. i want to tell him the tale of me from horrible beginning to horrible end. but he doesn't care and that hurts. i won't lie this time. not where it counts. my heart aches because i know he doesn't care. and i'd like it if someone cared. atleastalittle. i never meant for any of this to happen. i hate the way i obsess. if it wasn't joe. it would be someone else. i'm glad keith isn't around. or patrick. or vadim. or zach. or all the others. maybe the obsessive nature will settle down a bit while i'm here and not near there or there. maybe. to grow up. or. not to grow up. that is the present question. romeo died for less. goodbye joe. i love you mom. see you in the morning. sweet dreams. call me if you need me. just to hear her say my name. just to feel at ease with the past. just to know that someday he may talk to me again. just to be held. just to scream at the top of my lungs. just to feel his hand on mine. just to know that i am not all alone. just to find that one thing i miss so badly. just to be what i know i can be. just to get high one last time. just to do it all over again once more. my needs are simple. my wants are simple. my attitude is far too complex. i like to take it all in stride. like water flowing over my hand. without pain. without reservation. without much care at all. it always seems to be the end.