I’m still learning how to keep things and people. So hard. Because you have to tailor the love to fit them. You can’t just give them off the rack love. It’s not one size fits all, you know. When you give it to someone different you become a different someone. Every. Single. Time. And it’s harder to keep a person than it is to keep a secret. Things I’ve been told in confidence and been through with a person I won’t repeat to another. Personal things. I’ll take them to the grave with me even though I won’t take us there…because it didn’t work out. I couldn’t keep us. I let go. We moved each other, then we moved away, from each other.
You were my earthquake. You shook me when I wasn’t expecting it, left me disoriented, I hope nobody got hurt. Doesn’t matter where the faults lied.
Here lies less a man, than a pencil, grinded down to a nub by the world and its users. Couldn’t give any more. Who said a lot, mostly silently and without much noise. No erasing what he did anymore. Not at this point. He was looked at as a number 2 all his life. But throughout it all, through all the pressure that bore down upon him, he never broke. Never snapped.
You search the whole world to make your world whole. The world is a hole; we all fill that hole. People fill holes and it smooths them over. Themselves and the holes. I’m just trying to feel whole, man. Someone’s going to help me smooth this thing out.
Motion detector lights in this world. All around us. When you make moves they’re designed to see you. And you should want them to.
What I did was moving.
I was part of a movement.
All trigger making the people see you. And they won’t stay focused on you for long or forever. Just for now. It’s dark out here. So make a move.
I’m just trying to happen alongside you happening. You know, since you’re gonna be happening somewhere anywhere. Might as well be with me.