and you hold me down.

but i'm just so tired of days that feel like they're night.

overheated hotel hallways converge in my memories and futures past, places that i'm going, places that you haven't been. because i had everything so backwards and so fucked up and all i ever said was that i was wrong and that this was wrong and i kept on running out of oxygen when you kept saying breathe. and i'm still choking and wondering what i'm doing wrong but i know there's some way out of this i know there's something to keep on breathing for like forgotten songs and piano chords and dancing through hallways and parking lots.

there is something more but the lag time between now and changed has always, always perplexed me, and i've never been able to skip past this. there is who i was and who i am going to be and i have never been able to pause long enough to figure out just who i am and just why it is i need to change.

this is not where i meant to be; not at all. you and i are further apart than the light years of the galaxy. i can see the stars, the light that has not existed for thousands of years and think of it as real. i can think of you only in vague distorted ways. i can think of myself not at all, if only to wince.

there is something very cringe worthy in looking back and considering how your past and future selves would interact. if you could predict this future for me, i would have been horrified. and yet here i am, living it, doing these things, that i hate and i do not do anything to rectify it. sure, i complain and as i do these things i think about how much i wish i was doing something about it but i don't do things about it. i stay up hours past when i wished i was asleep. i leave the lights on all the time because i'm scared - more scared of myself than anything else. please don't stay too far away.

so the stars and i are closer sometimes it seems than the me i wanted to be. and i can see her clearly and vaguely all at once, we are twins and we are utter strangers, and there is really no point to our ruminations, neither of us, because i am me and the girl is only an image.

and what does the bible say about images? not that we ever cared much for what the bible said.

this feels too close to an exorcism and i would call it that if not for the fact that i am writing late at night and the fear is growing in my heart and i will once again sleep with the light on and gilmore girls playing in an attempt to thwart the fear.

i am afraid. i am deathly, deathly afraid and i sleep with the telephones, and a knife by my feet.

i wish i could give in and get up and please just lift me up, okay?

i don't want to fight anymore.

it's february. exactly four weeks to turn things around. no more cracker dust, no more sleepless nights and headache heartaches as you wake up closer to pm than am. it's time to clear a few things up and for more than a few bad habits to be waved out the door. sorry you couldn't stay. like they said, she's retarded and cold hearted.

"you're in, and we couldn't be happier about it. now tell your friends. if you don't have friends, that's okay too, we'll be your friends... unless you don't want friends, in which case we'll gladly respect your need for space."

currently open to the public.