in all my 'ehs' with cate last night, the verbal detox has depressed me past sea level. i'm become so black in thought. yo, fuck. brainnnnnnnnn issues. i want to crawl into a bed that doesn't belong to me nor to anyone else, someplace that no one holds ownership.
there are so many territories that i know i do not belong in.
so i'll continue to lay down with beirut and my legs up - blood rush, suppress my thoughts until the awkward, awkward fathers' day dinner. i'll probably even up at another bar, sipping hot chocolate like last christmas eve.
pity party for one.
imagine a field of lavender growing out farther than you can see, and in the middle of the field stands a weathered barn.
ReplyDeletelet's make this a reality! your waffle places belong in this sort of habitat.
ReplyDelete