leave your house, say I'm going home. and end up getting lost on the road.

it doesn't feel carefree. the nights don't feel alive. it doesn't feel like summer.

the people you meet, become the friends you make, and they become your safety net. and you grow comfortable with them. you love them, but you don't like them. you love them, but you resent them.

isn't that how most relationships develop, and deteriorate, with time.

it feels more like winter.

it can't stay this way forever.

repression. you wonder if things really were as terrible as you made them out to be when you were a kid, when you were young. were you that miserable in the past? so miserable that you just couldn't wait to grow up.

I want to say, I'd doubt it. I want to say, isn't it just the childish thing to do, to complain and curse and hate. immature, selfish rebellion against everything you know. just for the sake of rebelling. it's the young thing to do.

were things that awful? I want to say no. but maybe we just forget. maybe the days wear on, and wear us out. and we forget how awful we really were.

things can't be getting worse.

I hate these songs that remind me of you, and the city, when I thought that our days together would last forever.

it would have been easy, I keep saying. I wonder now if I was ever happy with you. I know the answer. and I didn't mean to lie.

but I do it pathologically.

I used to lie about a lot of things, big and small. and come clean almost instantaneously afterward.

these days, lies stay lies. everyone's entitled to their secrets.

whenever the moon is not quite full, it reminds me of that episode of Rugrats where the moon is a cookie. or some shit.

wish I'd had the fortitude to realize how potentially shitty growing up might be when I was a kid.

maybe I did. I hardly remember anything. I remember arbitrary details. insignificant ones. useless days I thought I'd hold dear-- days that only ended, in the long run, in disappointment.

zero nostalgia. things can change so much in such a short time. does this trip anybody else the fuck out. does anybody else over-think shit like this. does anybody else even THINK of shit like this. they have to.

the walls fell
and there I lay
saved

I hate all these songs about falling in love, and letting your guard down. and blahFUCKINGblah.

I wish I was that special. to be able to fall apart, become a vulnerable mess in someone's arms. the best I can hope for is a brief, drunken confession. and an insincere one, at that.

I am everything I never thought I'd be. I don't know how this happened. but I refuse to attribute it to one person, one experience.

windows leading to the past
think it's time I broke some glass
get this history off my mind

but I'm a little too jaded, and frightened, to do any self-exploration. what if I died tomorrow? that would be just plain shitty. guess I'd better sack up.

fuck. I've written a lot. I'm so tired but don't want to sleep.

it's so typical, to be reminded of a person, a time, a chapter in your life, every time you hear a certain song, get a whiff of a certain scent. so typical to feel your heart drop to your stomach, and not in that good way. in those moments you think, "I'll never get over this."

and then you do. and then something else ends. isn't it just the funniest thing when you don't see it coming. because it tickles me PINK.

and I'm finally numb,
so please don't get me rescued

I remember being a little younger, and a little more open. which is just a euphemism for naive. but weren't we all, to a certain extent. I remember resting my head on the shoulders of close friends, trying to let problems fall away.

experiencing the extremes of loneliness: feeling lonely when surrounded by "friends", and feeling lonely when literally alone.

I wish I wasn't so scared shitless of karma. I say I don't believe in anything. I'm so afraid of karma, and sometimes frightened of hell. although the latter falls under karma, by my logic. as in, Christina, you suck. therefore, hell will materialize simply to spite you.

I want moments of happiness, even if they're fleeting. even if they're temporary, at least they'll be distinctly memorable.

more than generic ecstasy.

but this isn't generic.

"I've never felt this way before."
you told me that I was bound to say that about everyone I came across. in the literal sense, you were wrong. but I know what you meant. you were so right.

but every time someone falls out of my life, memories of them instantly become dream-like, and so I'm not even sure if they were ever mine to begin with.

"she thinks life is like a movie, and it just isn't."
I don't like her either but FUCK. I love that idea.

yeah, I'm always comin down but I'm doin my best to get caught
yeah, I'm always comin down from the night before when I met you
to hear what gets you off

red fingernail polish
peelin like a sunburn
that black designer dress
looks better underneath our feet
your knees in the dirt

Andrew McMahon. is the man. scoring an eighth from the lesbians out west in Venice.

oh, California in the summer
and my hair is growing long
and fuck yeah, we can live like this