What is in a name?

I once heard a boy call my name. He called it loud and clear and I turned. But here is the thing about names; there is always someone who is near who has your name, too. I turned and saw a face I didn't know. When I realized it wasn't me, I went on, hating all the parents who had to name their children with the same name. I once heard a boy call who I was. He called it loud and clear and I didn't turn. I went on hating all the people who knew who I was.

I will name my child something hardly anyone has so they can always get away.

Me

I make up Broadway musicals and their scores in the shower. And they aren't half bad. The choreography is trash, but I haven't got much space to work with.

I am not an organized person but I freaking hate dirt, mostly in other peoples houses.

I am very passionate. About a lot of things. And I am full of empathy.

I can read like a demon and their is no one who can brush their teeth with such fevor like I do.

I am appreciative of good music and anything broken and it's possibility.

I can make anything craft-tastic with sequins and ribbon and glitter and stickers.

I'm not close. Hardly a baby step. But it's better that going back.

Just.

All my life I stumble,
But up here I am just perfect,
Perfect as i'll ever be...

The new visualizer on iTunes makes me want to cry. I imagine it is the closest I'll ever get to the things people see when they have that disease where they can see sound. Kind of like the Northern Lights, which I have also not seen. I want it on my ceiling.

X

I've always made the good choices. Yeah, I fuck it up a lot. But there is never a time when I sit back and say "Shit, I should have...yada yada." The time when I'd just rather die. He tried to off himself. And if he had died, it would have been on my hands. He came to take me to the hospital to see him and I said no. I went and got drunk. Made new friends doing ecstasy. And I'll never get a chance to apologize. He made my life hell years ago and here I am feeling sorry for being the reason he would have died. Life is never what you expect it to be. Stop making plans.

Buffalo Wings.

I'm going to run. And I'll keep going. So far that the burning pain in my legs will numb and the blisters turn into calluses. And I'll do my best not to look back. Just wait. One day I'll be here and the next all you'll see is the dusty trail that I have left behind. I'll go until the trees and grass and sky all look new and different and unrecognizable. I'll run until even I am different. And if I'm not, I'll just keep running until I am. Because running will be better than sitting around watching my ice heart melt into cold useless water that will evaporate at the first ray of sunshine. Maybe I'll run so much that I'll lose my humanity. Maybe I'll just become a buffalo and I'll roam forever. I'll be a buffalo and get wings and fly. Ha. Buffalo wings.

Which is more foolish, a child afraid of the dark or a grown man afriad of the light?

Lennon.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.

I like your cheekbones. How they are carved from clay. The red brown clay of your skin. And your deep black hair. You know how it shines like silk. You're warm and tall and full of muscle. Sometimes when you smile just the right way, the crooked way, I want to cry. Because I love you. I love you when I don't even believe in love. But I am always irrational. I want to claim you. I want to keep you so you can always keep me from falling into a thousand pieces. You are my best friend. I want to hold and hold and hold and never let go. I want to always inhale how you smell like the earth and the ocean. And how you smell like sweet hookah and the time of the world. I can't lose you today.

Colored underwear.

Monday=Red
Tuesday=Yellow
Wednesday=Green
Thursday=Blue
Friday=Purple

Doesn't Monday just feel like red? I'm dressing according to the days of the week. I'm currently looking for underwear in the corresponding color and with the day of the week written on them. So, if anyone knows where I can find such a thing, let me know.

Oh, boob. The sun woke up. Again. Will it ever just wait? Just a single night?