Alice died, in the night.
I've been learning to drive my whole life
I've been learning

would you like to see me often though you dont need to see me often
cause id like to see you often though i dont need to see you often

Paul Varjak: You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.

I wake for the man who lost his dreams. For the woman crying in her bathtub.
For the girl who can't remember her being. For the boy out teaching his son, before he even found himself. It keeps me dreaming, dreaming about things you could be, things you could have. It builds a fire inside me, and I feel like a child.  

I think of the sick one, lying in her stiff bed while I'm eating my cereal. I think of the lonely one sitting in his office shuffling, while I'm slipping on my dress. I see your empty face while I'm putting on my tights. I wonder how you're feeling about yourself. If you're somewhat secure. Hoping you won't say a damn thing about someone else. Then I put on my socks. I sit on the edge of my bed wondering if you're finally being yourself.



I know I'm not here to remember math equations. I can't remember movie titles, directors, or actors names. I forget a lot of what I'm saying. But I don't care to speak at all. Not into being top shit with all the newest things. I can't take these with me. Do you see? I don't need any advice about how I should go about things. I have a pretty good idea myself. I have control. I am strong, but sometimes I'll admit to needing love. Talking seems pointless to me, when I could  be hugging you. Words hardly are comforting so, I hardly do. I try to smile, but I my heads full of all sorts of pain. I've tried not to but it's something that will stay. You're fears are all, so similar. I used to be dedicated to help, but everyone's stubborn. So instead, I play. I'm up in the clouds dreaming, waiting for my day. & somehow, I always wake.  For you.

My feet are finally moving as fast as my mind I've been so busy!

I only have time to check messages, in the am , on my lunch breaks, and trips to the bathroom (sorry). I'm feeding off my own adreneline. If it had been a liquid I would have already drowned. But it's as if I've grown gills and now I am swimming, as if I can see anything from my angle. I feel, I can get to it faster now. I can feel it, I am practically there.

Now do I fit in with all you, marching around?

I rufuse to make it of my mind,
deep sky, blind orchestra.
I've seen your rivet eye loose mine.
My lover, pass by, pass by.

pp 12
I want to lie facing the clouds, watching everything slow down. I'm always spinning around like a stupid merry-go-round. As a child, I despised those things. Each ugly mule, twirling around. Circus music, blaring. You go up and around till you're head's sick, never getting anywhere. I did like when children would wine, they'd fight for colours they'd sit on, as if it made a difference. Their sticky fingers held those colours, so proudly.

When I was young I would pick the uglieast mule possible. I would close my eyes and try to forget where I was. I would clintch my teeth everytime I'd see my damn parents waving, every single time I would pass them. I remember thinking I'd leap off, just before they could see me again. For some reason I thought this was so funny

I seem to think of merry-go-rounds when my life gets good. As if I start loosing hope, thinking things could change back. How I would go sour once I went along with the loops. I'd see my parents standing there, waving their arms vigorously. Hugging me saying "you had a good run!" and then I'd have to go home.