Hey little sister SHOTGUN
The moments I try to dwindle in longer are it. "It" being everything that I don't think about and just enjoy. The ones that I don't keep track of that I don't count and don't count on. They simply are and that is what I know my life should be about. Cabaret in the parking lot with my friends. Hand on hand spinning and not thinking. Life without thinking about living and how to live dancing dwindling. In those moments I breathe. I hold on to something. Life.
I use them sparingly.
They come and go.
The breath between lyrics written and rehearsed.
All of the innocense we feel is lost in the past and the present between the lines and the sheer psychosis we bring upon ourselves. It is in those moments that I feel lucky to be able to realise this. They remind me that I am still capable and it is purely by living in itself that I have that capability. If I can dance in public without care then I can live my life by those same rules.
It's a little strange trying to explain this idea because the action doesn't require an explanation.
There was a storm last night. It didn't show it's full potential to us, although that is probably (and this goes against my very nature to say) a good thing that it didn't because it had the potential to be pretty violent. The violence I saw was exciting, if not a little frightening...which is part of the excitement. I like putting myself into dangerous positions. I don't like, however, when the people I love are put into dangerous situations...which is what started the fire beneath my feet when I got into the car and picked up the phone to call everyone I know and tell them to get the hell home. There was a tornado on Fire Island. Probably nothing serious, that is, if there is a tornado that shouldn't be taken seriously. But that was the storm that was supposed to hit us last night and I couldn't get the image of my sister in the ice store staring down a freight train out of my head.
I respect nature although I do have a tendency to respectfully throw my ass in the air and tell lightning to kiss it.
The cats are getting skinny. I need to try to tweak my work schedule so that I can be home more to take care of them and the house and, I suppose probably, myself. I haven't been home earlier than 12 am (for more than perhaps an hour at a time) in two or three weeks. Work is beginning to take it's toll. Part of why I work so much though is because I don't know how much free time is too much for myself to handle. I almost feel like it's better to over do it than to risk any other alternative. I've always had a hard time finding middle ground.
I use them sparingly.
They come and go.
The breath between lyrics written and rehearsed.
All of the innocense we feel is lost in the past and the present between the lines and the sheer psychosis we bring upon ourselves. It is in those moments that I feel lucky to be able to realise this. They remind me that I am still capable and it is purely by living in itself that I have that capability. If I can dance in public without care then I can live my life by those same rules.
It's a little strange trying to explain this idea because the action doesn't require an explanation.
There was a storm last night. It didn't show it's full potential to us, although that is probably (and this goes against my very nature to say) a good thing that it didn't because it had the potential to be pretty violent. The violence I saw was exciting, if not a little frightening...which is part of the excitement. I like putting myself into dangerous positions. I don't like, however, when the people I love are put into dangerous situations...which is what started the fire beneath my feet when I got into the car and picked up the phone to call everyone I know and tell them to get the hell home. There was a tornado on Fire Island. Probably nothing serious, that is, if there is a tornado that shouldn't be taken seriously. But that was the storm that was supposed to hit us last night and I couldn't get the image of my sister in the ice store staring down a freight train out of my head.
I respect nature although I do have a tendency to respectfully throw my ass in the air and tell lightning to kiss it.
The cats are getting skinny. I need to try to tweak my work schedule so that I can be home more to take care of them and the house and, I suppose probably, myself. I haven't been home earlier than 12 am (for more than perhaps an hour at a time) in two or three weeks. Work is beginning to take it's toll. Part of why I work so much though is because I don't know how much free time is too much for myself to handle. I almost feel like it's better to over do it than to risk any other alternative. I've always had a hard time finding middle ground.