ypsilanti's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- little room. see you soon. goodnight. sugar, you're tired. it's started to show in your eyes, they look like those of one who's left themselves behind. you used to only know that u wanted to dance, and that everything else would sort itself around your step. now you only know you want to stop. all you want to do is stop. all you know is stopping. they're tearing up the summer streets, and moving in and out all around me. we're drinking champagne off the walls and waiting for the call of whatever we've been waiting for since fall. since flowers covered the earth. dear friends, i'm losing it. i've lost it in many ways. thinking about the beginnings and the endings of everything, trapped in the wrong starts and the all-too sudden stops. too many debuts that double as finales. too much missing. missed entirely. is it getting older and wondering about less and less, certain of more than ever before? fuck no!! the irs says i owe them three-thousand dollars. i am fucked. i don't know how this happened. before it got taken from me in new orleans, my driver's licence got suspended cause i was driving and i didn't have my wallet on me. i don't like to carry my wallet around because people might try to rob me. like the police. when you're hanging out in your little room, and you're working on something good, you might need to move it in to a bigger room cause it's so fucking good. and then you're standing there like a fool, trying to remember how you started it all, there in your little room. this is the end. this is the beginning. don't look back. 8:02 p.m. - 5.29.01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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