That’s a wrap, and I missed the crew shot. I think I missed a lot of things, but that’s the motto of set-life. It’s self-perpetuated thought. It’s not a lack of getting along. It’s a knack for kicking around, but never actually settling down. But who’s fault is that? You’re reading him, and I don’t deny it. It’s eating you alive, and I think it’s finally taking its toll. It’s more like I always find myself in situations that I’ve created, and then complain when they don’t go my way, even though it’s kind of a belated reaction to what I already knew and stated.
Spilled root bear in the rental van, with stand up blaring on sat radio, and it’s 4 AM, and I’m headed home, and we never got that breakfast though, despite delirious crack of dawn conversations on the kitchen floor, of things we wished had possibly worked out in our favor more. Only it’s just not doable, because I’m not what you’re looking for. But vice versa is a hard rapport that I constantly ignore, in hopes to restore the fine balance between liveable peace and loveable war. I mean, at least you got some
onething out of it.
That’s not entirely true. History lesson around the block taught me real value, and gave me real insight into perceptions never projected inward. I can’t charm clothes off, and I can’t blend in more, because I’m too around less, and interest doesn’t go both ways. I can’t ask curls out, because I’m more close to faces being made at my expense, and I think I’d rather have it that way? That sounds way too confusing, and you’re making it more complicated than it has to be. That’s because it is, and it has to be (respectively).
Kissable lips is the end of the story. Hesitation, shoulder to shoulder, I told you not to worry, for this is not our crossroad, even though everyone keeps asking the wrong question based off assumptions they’ve only seen in person, but never heard them spoken. How could they? They’re never around to see you go verbal by being non-verbal. You’re currently reading a version of what I was probably thinking the last time I made a facial expression that didn’t include a snarky comment, or back-handed compliment.
It’s so hard to be honest when everyone think-knows you’re lying. I spread rumors knowing full well their destination is purely mental. They’re like sea turtles returning to the ocean despite life’s intentions. I guess that’s why I like wide shots glaring down hallways, because you don’t know what’s going to happen because you’re not following, but if something were to happen, you’d be too far for comfort. You’d be too far to get hurt. You’d be too far to have anything actually register. I think that’s what I want. But I don’t want you.