You = Blind

It sucks to hear “I won’t wait for you anymore.”

It sucks to know that the bridge is on fire. And starting to burn.

“Do you miss her so bad it hurts?”

Well, I’m sorry about it. I’m sorry that I’m just not strong enough to tell you all these things. I’m so fucking sorry it makes me angry.

And you.

Well, you’ll just never get it. And by the time you see what I wrote here. It might be too late.

“Here’s the things I meant but never said.”

For you:

SHUT UP. If you’d just take any. Any. Kind of initiative. If you’d willingly show me you could worry less and have fun. If you could be that first surprise kiss. If you could pull me aside and show me that you still love me and I still love you.

Things would be different.
“We’d turn our music down…”
Things would change.
“....and we’d whisper…”
But you won’t.

“…Say what you’re thinking right now.”
Because you’re too fucking scared. And too fucking stubborn.
“We never grew out of this feeling that we won’t give up.”

Self-Centered Thinking

I’m thinking about starting to hide notes. I have been thinking about the idea for a few weeks now. Then Dash. C. came on. “This Ruined Puzzle” if anyone is interested.

Does he ever get the girl?

I love this idea of a movie life. And it’s tending to unfold just so for me. I wait and let things happen sometimes. Or go on a whim. And most of the time, it flows together with near-seamlessness.

This apartment is dead to me now. All but empty, even though no one has even moved out yet. I just feel like. Like there are more bridges to cross. More adventures to be had. But what can you do? I guess I just need to accept that knowns are not always a bad thing.

I’ve been considering caving to her again. Giving into everything I’ve been trying to prove to myself I don't need. That I can be strong alone. I can't even explain all the things that might mean. Or would it only mean that I really am just doing what I want for fun.

That seems like one gigantic trap of a statement.

Maybe I’m just nervous to fall into something so comfortable, when I know, I’ve only ever even had sex with one other person.

I don’t want to regret anything in this life. But it’s hard to know ahead of time what you will regret.

“You’re taste still lingers on my lips, like I just place them upon yours and I starve. I starve for you. But this new diet’s liquid. And dulling to the senses. And it is crude. But it will do.”

If this weren’t a blog for pouring out your thoughts, I would call myself self-centered.

Maybe I am.

Am I?

I hope not.

-N

A Place Called Home

I'm getting worried now. It's 4 days till move out, and I dont have a place to live. And it seems utterly painful to sleep on someone's couch. There's just something so vulnerable about it. I need my very own place to retreat to.

I hope something works out. I'd almost rather be homeless than knocking on the doors of friends and family for help. I'm just too god damn proud for my own good I guess.

But everyone needs something in this world to hold onto. Mine is my independance. I need to not need. To live just fine on my own.

I told someone today I try and make my writing simple but profound.

I wonder if I do.

I hope I do.

So... I will give you the example of what I told him.

I could write something like this,

"I've come to know all that which New York has to offer it's inhabitants and passionate travelers. And over time, I've watched the painted glamour peel off slowly to reveal grit and grime. And imperfections in what was once impervious and immaculate."

But instead, I prefer this,

"I've lived in New York for most of my life. And I've seen a lot. And in that time, I learned this. New York will fuck you."

Sometimes, I wonder why I live here. And why I write this stuff down.

But the hope that one other person out there is reading this and feeling some solice in another person thinking the same thing. Feeling the same way. Maybe even feeling a little better.

Well, that seems a good reason.

Almost Autumn

I'm feeling twisty inside tonight. FUCK.

Sometimes you just want to feel loved. Even if you think you don't deserve it. Even if you really don't. Everyone needs to sometimes. And that's my night tonight. I'm feeling that same longing that pulls me to Union Square. I might follow it.

"And if you'd like. Some other time. I'd like to introduce you to the finer things. And if we survive. And I'm alive, I'd like to say how beautiful I think you are."

Why can't people see the ones in life that will always be there. That's why I just flat out say it. I will always be here for you. I will stay.

FUCK. Its a night tonight. A cold, lonely Fall night. And Winter is coming. And I'm still terrified.

I could never ever tell her that I want it again. Because I'd have it again in an instant. And I guess that makes me messed up. Maybe I'll just never be happy with what I've got. Maybe I'm a sham. Maybe I hand out notes to get rid of feelings that I should be telling the ones I love.

But Maybe. I love you all.

One things for sure. Every pretty girl steals my heart. You jerks.

"Hold it now. You've got everyone convinced you're alright. When no one else is quite as vulnerable."

If they only knew. If you only knew. I'm supposed to be writing these to feel better, right? It could be a long time. I bought a 60 pack of standard black pens. So next time you see a boy chewing one holding a folded note. You know, He's in it for the long haul. - N

Crash

"It says Hold on and take this ride. And set aside, all the times, When you collide. Then you leave me here to die. Heres the things I mean't, but I never said." - Starting Line

Here I am again at a crossroads. To take a winding path that looks curvy and treacherous, or to head out to a great open, often travelled road.

Ring, Ring. The curvy one just called.

Anyway. I'm thinking it's time again. Time to do what I did three years ago. To throw everything to the wind. To throw every little care and inhibition.

You'd be surprised how quickly they build back up. A worry here. A self-doubt there. It piles on quickly.

I remember it still. Screaming at the top of my lungs. Screaming at a town. Screaming at a river. Screaming it all out. It felt good.

So maybe, I've lost my way in my own philosophies a little bit. I should be less anxious. Take more risks. And think slightly. Just slightly. Less about the repurcussions of my actions.

I'm closing my eyes. And fully expecting to trip over branches.

Box of Us

I listened to this music all night. 5 Songs on repeat. Hours on end.
And when I woke up this morning, I took a shower, and turned it back on.

It’s hard to let go of something you know brought you joy. Hard to accept that, sometimes, good things come to an end for a good reason. Be it work or love, it always seems like something can be fixed. Something could be done differently. And then your brain begins to play the what-if-game.

Well, I’m getting tired of having a one track mind.

It’s funny though. If you asked anyone close to me. Well, almost anyone. What was on my mind constantly? I don’t really think anyone would be even close.

No one realizes how much you hurt until you tell them.

I finally mailed the box yesterday. It seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. It also seems trivial. A dress. A picture. A book or two. But it was really the final release. Sending out that piece of paper that I hung on my wall for over a year took a lot out of me. Like packaging and taping up a box full of hopeful dreams.

I got to the post office 10 minutes late. The nice postmaster smiled and let me in.

I’m changing the music now. And with any luck, my day too.

Guess I’ve been doing a lot of changing lately.

If you want to listen along. It’s The Starting Line; Make Yourself At Home e.p.

Union Square Beginnings

Yesterday, I wrote a letter. I decided to pour out everything that was on my head. Something like a journal entry. With everything I thought out on the table. To clear my mind, and let me say the things I couldn't out loud. And then. I realized I had no one to give it to.

So I sit in Union Square, NYC, surrounded by people, but completely alone. And then I realized. Everyone sitting around me. Quiet. Intune with only their own world and feelings. Is just like me. They are here because they crave connection. Subconciously or not.

Some are more upfront about it. Like me.

So I addressed my letter. "You, whoever you are." And as I folded it, just like a highschool note. I wrote on the back. "You look lonely too."

And I walked. I circled the crowds and looked for the loneliest looking girl I could find. And after about 20 minutes of circling I saw her. I walked right up. And didn't say anything. I just held out the note, she looked up and took it. Then I turned my back and walked away.

5 minutes passed. And she found me, smiling. And thanked me.

Well, Thank you, Maria. I wish I hadn't been speechless.

I'm gonna keep writing. And sharing. And making connections in small ways. And healing my broken little world. One page at a time. - N