Friday, September 30, 2005

This is why I am always pessimistic

"The basis of optimism is sheer terror."--Oscar Wilde

It's just ain't wise

Don't believe anything anyone says directly before, during, or after sex!

On aging

Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.


Well, it's not hard to see
Anyone who looks at me
Knows I am just a rolling stone
Never landing anyplace to call my own
To call my own

Well, it seems like so long ago
But it really ain't ya know
I started off a crazy kid
Miracle I made it through the things I did
The things I did

Someday I'll go where there ain't no rain or snow
Until then, I travel alone
And I make my bed
with the stars above my head
And dream of a place called home.

Kim Richey, A place called Home

On Joy and Sorrow

Then a woman said, "Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow."

And he answered:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

Gabran Khalil Gabran, The Prophet

The Bastards

They speak of my drinking but never consider my thirst!

Words to live by

Don't worry about what people think; they don't do it very often.

The way things used to be a long time ago

A woman has a close male friend. This means that he is probably interested in her, which is why he hangs around so much. She sees him strictly as a friend. This always starts out with, you're a great guy, but I don't like you in that way. This is roughly the equivalent for the guy of going to a job interview and the company saying, You have a great resume, you have all the qualifications we are looking for, but we're not going to hire you. We will, however, use your resume as the basis for comparison for all other applicants. But, we're going to hire somebody who is far less qualified and is probably an alcoholic. And if he doesn't work out, we'll hire somebody else, but still not you. In fact, we will never hire you. But we will call you from time to time to complain about the person that we hired.

More Glamorama

She waves me away. "Animals need as much love and respect and care as we give people."

I consider this. I think about all the things I've seen and done, and I consider this.

"I think they're better off without that, baby," I say. "In fact I think they're doing okay."



"A smart suit," she sighs. "Being buff. A cool haircut. Worrying about whether people think you're famous enough or cool enough or in good enough shape or . . . or whatever." She sighs, gives up, stares at the ceiling. "These are not signs of wisdom, Victor," she says. "This is the bad planet."


These Days

*Stolen from Sally*

I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to.

I've stopped my rambling,
I don't do too much gambling
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my ways
And I wonder if I'll see another highway.

I had a lover,
I don't think I'll risk another
These days, these days.
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing so long.

I've stopped my dreaming,
I won't do too much scheming
These days, these days.
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten.
Please don't confront me with my failures,
I had not forgotten them.

Nico's "These Days"

For Sidney Becht

That note you hold, narrowing and rising, shakes
Like New Orleans reflected on the water,
And in all ears appropriate falsehood wakes,

Building for some a legendary Quarter
Of balconies, flower-baskets and quadrilles,
Everyone making love and going shares--

Oh, play that thing! Mute glorious Storyvilles
Others may license, grouping around their chairs
Sporting-house girls like circus tigers (priced

Far above rubies) to pretend their fads,
While scholars manqués nod around unnoticed
Wrapped up in personnels like old plaids.

On me your voice falls as they say love should,
Like an enormous yes. My Crescent City
Is where your speech alone is understood,

And greeted as the natural noise of good,
Scattering long-haired grief and scored pity.

Philip Larkin

Thursday, September 29, 2005

The best part in Believe

The best part of "believe" is the "lie."
I hope you sing along and steal a line.
I need to keep you like this in my mind.
So give in or just give up.

Look around

Funny. 'Cause I look around at this world you're so eager to be a part of... and all I see is six billion lunatics looking for the fastest ride out. Who's not crazy? Look around. Everyone's drinking, smoking, shooting up... shooting each other, or just plain screwing their brains out 'cause they don't want 'em anymore. *I'm* crazy? Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind. 'Cause at least I admit the world makes me nuts.

Glory, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

A Prayer

May the road be free for the journey,
May it lead where it promised it would,
May the stars that gave ancient bearings
Be seen, still be understood
May every aircraft fly safely,
May every traveler be found,
May sailors in crossing the ocean
Not hear the cried of the drowned
May gardens be wild, like jungles,
May nature never be tamed,
May dangers create of us heroes,
May fears always have names,
May the mountains stand to remind us,
Of what it mean to be young
May we be outlived by our daughters,
May we be outlived by our sons
May the bombs rust away in the bunkers,
And the doomsday clock not be rewound
May the solitary scientists, working
Remember the holes in the ground
May the knife remain in the holder,
May the bullet stay in the gun,
May those who live in the shadows
Be seen by those in the sun

John Marsden

Story of her life

Sometimes we put up walls, not to block people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.

My Poor brain

It seems like I'm always getting stuck
Between the handshake and the fuck

Foo Fighters

Heart of Darkness

We penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness. It was very quiet there. At night sometimes the roll of the drums behind the curtain of trees would run up the river and remain sustained faintly, as if hovering in the air high over our heads, till the first break of day ... The dawn were heralded by a chill stillness; the wood-cutters slept, their fires burned low; the snapping of a twig would make you start. We were wanderers on a prehistoric planet ... But suddenly, as we struggled round a bend, there would be a glimpse of rush walls, of peaked grass-roof, a burst of yells, a whirl of black limbs, a mass of hands clapping, of feet stamping, of bodies swaying, of eyes rolling, under the droops of heavy and motionless foliage.

Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness
"The air was alive with the rush and flutter of wings; it was ripped by screaming shells, hissing like tons of molten metal plunging suddenly into water, there was the blast and concussion of their explosion, men smashed, obliterated in sudden eruptions of earth, rent and strewn in bloody fragments, shells that were like hell-cats humped and spitting, little sounds, unpleasantly close, lie the plucking of tense strings, and something tangling his feet, tearing at his trousers and puttees as he stumbled over it, and then a face suddenly, an inconceivably disorted face, which raved and sobbed at him as he fell with it into a shell-hole."

Frederic Manning, Middle Parts of Fortune (Accounts of The Great War)

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

On Guilt

Guilt is a rope that wears thin.

Ayn Rand


Here we sit in a branchy row,
Thinking of beautiful things we know;
Dreaming of deeds that we mean to do,
All complete in a minute or two--
Something noble and grand and good,
Won by merely wishing we could.
Now we're going to -- never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!

Rudyard Kipling


I am Me. In all the world, there is no one else exactly like me.Everything that comes out of me is authentically mine, because I alone chose it -- I own everything about me: my body, my feelings, my mouth, my voice, all my actions, whether they be to others or myself. I own my fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, my fears. I own my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes. Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me. By so doing, I can love me and be friendly with all my parts. I know there are aspects about myself that puzzle me, and other aspects that I do not know -- but as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can courageously and hopefully look for solutions to the puzzles and ways to find out more about me. However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, and whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is authentically me. If later some parts of how I looked, sounded, thought, and felt turn out to be unfitting, I can discard that which is unfitting, keep the rest, and invent something new for that which I discarded. I can see, hear, feel, think, say, and do. I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, and to make sense and order out of the world of people and things outside of me. I own me, and therefore, I can engineer me. I am me, and I am Okay.



It is difficult to say who do you the most harm: enemies with the worst intentions or friends with the best.

On choices

*Originally written 28/2/2003*

I sometimes question my choices, my actions and my words. Over the years i have managed to mess up friendship after friendship on stupid arguments, faults or actions that i took in stride.
Don't get me wrong ; I do not feel guilty about those actions. Most of those people deserved it anyway. There was the ones i wanted to teach a lesson, the ones that i wanted to protect and the ones i wanted to destory. Yes, there were friends of mine that deserved to be destoryed for their own good, the same way its a lot better to tear down a building and rebuild it then it is to repair it temporarily. Not to mention the ones i had issues with, for i am not that jaded to think that all of my actions were justifiable as acts of care and concern.

There were also always those I rubbed the wrong way by being too brash or too arrogant or too ambitious or too successful -- or by not being inhibited or tactful enough to refrain from writing about my life here for the whole world to see.To this day having this diary is a cause of drama for me with all of my friends who would rather not have our dirty laundry out for the world to see. As you can see, i am still not listening to them.

I guess being a friend of mine is not an easy thing to be.

Another old away message

To the girl who left her White Victorea's Secret Panties in my bedroom, please come and pick them up, cause i am not quiet sure who you are.

And next time, please take your panties with you when you leave; I really don't need that kind of confusing souvenirs in my life right now! Ok?

Thanx hun!

The Way of the Samurai

One who is a samurai must before all things keep constantly in mind…the fact that he has to die. If he is always mindful of this, he will be able to live in accordance with the paths of loyalty and filial duty, will avoid myriads of evils and adversities, keep himself free of disease and calamity and moreover enjoy a long life. He will also be a fine personality with many admirable qualities. For existence is impermanent as the dew of evening, and the hoarfrost of morning, and particularly uncertain is the life of the warrior!

Daidoji Yuzan

I live by this

Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think!

An old away message

Note to self:

Never shroom around clinnically depressed people, never shroom around people who will pull knifes on you, never shroom and watch Hair or any musical ever again, never shroom and walk alone when its raining and horrible out, and never shroom and watch the SciFi channel ever again, that's just a bad idea!

On a second thought, Never shroom again!

Life simplified

Take trips, get high, laugh, joke and goodbye!


Why did we lose that?

Ancient Egyptians believed that upon death they would be asked two questions and their answers would determine whether they could continue their journey in the afterlife. The first question was, "Did you bring joy?" The second was, "Did you find joy?"

The meaning of death

Not here

Don't stand beside my grave and weep,
For I'm not there, I do not sleep,
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond's glint on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush,
of quiet birds in circle flight,
I am soft stars that shine at night,
Don't stand beside my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die.

Melinda Sue Pacho

Say it Fiffty

Some days wouldn't be special, if it wasn't for rain
Joy wouldn't feel so good, if it wasn't for pain
Death gotta be easy, 'cause life is hard
It'll leave you physically, mentally, and emotionally scarred

50 cent

The way things work

When I was a kid I used to pray every night for a new bicycle. Then I realised that the Lord doesn't work that way so I stole one and asked Him to forgive me.

Emo Philips


I'm mad, you're mad, we're all mad here, it's the fad for many a year, if you think we're crazy my dear, you're right cause I'M mad, YOU'RE mad, we're ALL mad here!

Alice in Wonderland

So true

It always rains on tents. Rainstorms will travel thousands of miles, against prevailing winds for the opportunity to rain on a tent.

One word to describe it all

Entropy: The Inevitable and steady deterioration of a system or society.

Synonyms: anarchy, ataxia, bedlam, Chaos, clutter, disarray, discord, disorder, disorganization, free-for-all, holy mess, lawlessness, misrule, mix-up, mobocracy, muddle, pandemonium, tumult, turmoil, unruliness.

Slipping down

*Originally written June 2nd 2003*

It seems to me that my life has been one big movie. There have been its ups and downs, its frogs and prince charmings. But it's sad to see that the ending to this movie may not be what I want to make it.

Karen: so whats the plan? do you know if you are staying or leaving?
Sam: i have no clue. i am still waiting for my father to write me back. whatever he says i am gonna end up doing, cause that's the way it has always been.
Karen: how can you live like that?

May 27, 2003

I guess I always planned on everything being so easy for me. I was labled as being smart and funny (witty actually is a better word) when I was younger. Have I lost the sense of both along with my youth? I am unsure of that, as I am unsure of so many things.

Kim:i am not smoking anymore
Sam:why not?
Kim: well, if i am gonna be living at home-- there is no way in hell i could ever smoke here
Kim: my parents are so against that
Sam:hmmm! why not move to cali?
Kim:its still a possibility
Kim: florida is not out of the picture yet
Kim: or maybe a move to spain in the fall :-)
Kim: anything is possible
Sam: anything is possible
Sam: and nothing will happen
Kim: then you already know my story!

April 19, 2003

The night sky has become only that to me these days, whereas before, it held some sort of mystery; almost magic when the stars shone so brightly, and the crickets sang their night songs. Now, I walk along the streets with its blackness over my head, and I hardly even give it a second chance.

Desiree: well you will come back a lot, wont you?
Sam: who knows desi
Sam: i have no clue
Sam: until today i thought i was going to gradschool
Desiree: say yes
Desiree: say yes anyway
Sam: sure
Sam: yes
Sam: i will come back every 3 months to visit
Desiree:see? Much better!

May 29, 2003

When I was a child, I had never dreamt that growing older would give me a different perspective on things. I took for granted the fact that as a child, I saw through eyes that held nothing but wonder. I have gained new insight, but have forgotten the longing to grow wings and fly away from this place. I have lost the sense of dreaming without limits.

Life... is like a box of chocolates. A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctoral gift that no one ever asks for. Unreturnable because all you get back is another box of chocolates. So, you're stuck with mostly undefinable whipped mint crap, mindlessly wolfed down when there's nothing else to eat while you're watching the game. Sure, once is a while you get a peanut butter cup or an English toffee but it's gone too fast and the taste is fleeting. In the end, you are left with nothing but broken bits filled with hardened jelly and teeth-shattering nuts, which, if you are desperate enough to eat, leaves nothing but an empty box of useless brown paper.

cigar smoking man on the x files

It seems like such a short time ago that my nights consisted of playing hide-and-go-seek with friends within my neighborhood. The tight knit bond that held us together has unraveled in so many different dirrections. Of course we all keep in touch, but a distance has been placed between us. Not the distance of location, but the changes that come with getting older. We aren't care free kids any more with all the time in the world. We have become more than that, and it saddens me to see that our separate lives have separated us from one another.

Start packing your bags! you are no longer going to gradschool because your mom lied about the land and the money. I am sorry son, but there is nothing i can do.


May 28, 2003

We grew up.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions,
while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.

From The Second Coming--W.B.Yeats

A vision

*Originally written 11/8/2002*

A man waiting in the train station, just like many others like him, just losing seconds of their lives waiting for that ride.

He then decides he is done waiting, he jumps of the ledge on to the tracks and stand facing the train.

People around him panic, they start yelling at him that a train is coming, extending their hands to help him get out.

He ignores them all, he looks at them as if they are all stupid and says :"It's not gonna hit me. Its gonna see me and diverge. I'll be unharmed!"

The train starts approaching, people really start to panic. They start yelling, pleading, extending more hands for the guy. They told him he can't do this. They told him it won't diverge just for him. The world won't change for you. All their pleads and advice fell on his deaf ear and with his confident smile he told them to go away.

That they don't know what they are talking about.

As the train really approached, some of the bystanders started to take a step back. They thought, if he wants to kill himself,that's his business. We shouldn't die too! Very few remained, still pleading, yet no avail!

As the train enterd the station, even the ones that were still pleading stepped back. They looked at the confident man with pity and said :"we did all we could have done!"

The man, still with his confident smile, stands against the approaching train, which is 20 meters away now.

19 and counting

18 and counting

17 and counting

16 and counting

15 and counting

14 and counting

13 and still approaching.

12 and its not slowing down

11 and its not diverting!

10 and then the man realized something.

9 the train won't diverge, not because the man isn't important!

8 not because the man isn't special!

7 just because there's no where else for it to go.

6 the trail is the only place the train knows.

5 so finally the guy starts to panic..

4 his smile goes away..

3 he reaches his hands for the poeple at the ledge..

2 but its too late now..

1 and no one took his hand!


Then the man ceazed to be!

And the train stopped, boarded all the passengers who were waiting,
and just continued going on the rail!

Cause that's what trains do!

Stuff people said to me

"Drugs aren't evil, its the world that is a shitty place and the only way u can survive it is if you are fucked up"


"if you can't be a good role model, you have to be a horrible example!"


" Goodness pays son! don't let anyone convince you different."

my grandmother

The Nature of the Beast

*originally written 11/8/2002*

If our lives were taped and used for a TV show, it would be beyond anything that is on TV right now. It always has been like that, and i don't get it. The consistent presence of drama and fucked up shit has me starr-eyed from amazment, but the turth is that shit don't come from no where. Its in the core of all of us, the messed up way of thinking and acting that each and every single one of us seems to follow. But then again, some of this shit just happens for no reason or at best could be attributed to karma if you believe in that sort of thing. The truth is, we are all in this puddle of shit together and we all seem to be connected to each other through it. No wonder whenever one of us gets a chance to escape and distance him/herself from us they take it and run with their tail between their legs and almost never looking back.

Interestingly enough, it seems that everytime they do escape from our nice puddle of shit, they get themselves into a bigger and deeper puddle of shit with people they don't really know, only they don't know it yet. It takes time for the truth to rear its ugly head for them to see, and the horror that dawns on them from this revelation sends them straight into denial. No wonder i stick to my puddle of shit and never try to escape, for i know how to handle it now, even though it makes me a lil bit more cynical and apathethic everyday. I guess that's the nature of the beast called growing up!

The Great Gatsby

"She would instinctively avoid clever shrewd men and now I saw that this was because she felt safer on a plane where any divergence from a code would be thought impossible. She was incurably dishonest. She wasn't able to endure being at a disadvantage, and given this unwillingness I suppose she had begun dealing in subterfuges when she was very young in order to keep that cool insolent smile turned to the world!"

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Trying to live alone

*originally written 5/16/2004*

It's been a while since I've written anything at all. Why not? Said many. I can't write anything when I am happy, I write best when I am in pain. My words form meaning on paper like blood oozing out from an open wound, I says to them. And it's true, for the past two years, I turned my back on my words and fell in love.

So here I am, tappity-tapping in front of the computer, pouring out my nonsensical ramblings, it can only mean one thing. Go figure.

It was magical. A meaning to the abyss of confusion. My missing piece of the puzzle of which I call life. But I chose to walk away. Away from what I had. I have tried so long since to find a song to say how I actually feel and why I did it. I found it in one of my old slow rock CDs.

I held you for a moment in my hands
The moment with you slipped away like sand
Through my fingers now
In front of me a choice I have to make
To carry on or simply fade away
I lose you either way
I'd like to say that it was easy
It was hard To say goodbye
I thought I would die
Letting go of you
Was so hard to do
And I thought that it will kill me but I made it though somehow
And I'm so much stronger now

Stronger now , Warrant

You might be asking, if you loved her, you wouldn't have had walked away. Well, my friend, I loved her. With all my heart and soul. I never did care about anyone in my life and I don't think I will care about anyone the same way I did for her. I wanted to marry this person. We had plans for the future.

When I least expected it, She said choose, and I chose.

It was a difficult choice and I chose the most painful road.

Even in front of my friends, I am still the same. Looking stronger in fact but inside, I feel lost. My world is a mess again and I look for order in my work, my new found freedom and everything I wasn't allowed to do in the past year.

And many a night after she left my world, I wondered to myself, did I love her? I did. With all my heart. Did I do my best? I guess I did in my own way.

And one thing that tormented me. Did she love me? I would like to think that she did. In her own special way. And I guess she did.

Did I know what love is? Yes I did. And I showed her my version of love. I gave everything I had inside of me, and took whatever she wanted to give.

But what did this thing called love do to me?

Love is a magical thing. The thing that inspired me to keep going and always try to be a better human being. But now? Where is the love that used to comfort me while I slept?

And yet I still dream of it, the love I seek to give me the peace I have looked for eons.
I dreamt of her, I dreamt of the peace I could have had, I dreamt of the future that I was robbed of. Even in my hell, I dream of seeing, and touching heaven every single night. And every night I fear to dream of my heaven.

Not because I am afraid I can't tell reality from fantasy. But I fear the waking moment, because that's the point of time where I will lose everything I long for in a single second.

Maybe we are such stuff dreams are made of, then maybe I won't wake up crying to dream again. Dreams are made up of the impossible; the stuff we've left behind. The trinkets of our past that we wish we still had. But these days I can't be sure what dreams are made of anymore. And to tell you the truth, I don't think I care anymore.

Why do I still care for her then? Even till today, even when the thought of her still kills me inside?

She was kind of person you can tell anything to, no matter how bad, and I know that she'll still love me, because she knew me. I wanted to go with her. I wanted to give up all I had here to return with her. I wanted everything. But sometimes the reality slaps you hard in the face and you wake up and realize there's so much that you can't leave behind.

I remember a quote from somewhere that says. "Do not walk in front of me for I do not want to follow you. Do not walk behind me, for I do not want to lead you. Walk beside me, for it is then we will walk together."

And then she stopped walking altogether. She stopped. And she looked at us. She looked at me. Maybe she was trying to tell me something; I don't know. And she became a stranger and we drifted apart.

But I'll always love her. All my life. Maybe it'll fade away with time or with travel, when i too leave the states and go back to Egypt. But I know that when I go back to Boston, my paradise on earth and go back to the places to where there was light and colour and laughter in my world of black and white, I know I will remember her and remember how it is to love someone and to loved in return.

But now, it's back to the shadows. To my four walls where I face every night and drive myself insane wishing I could touch her face.

But the truth remains. She's gone.

And I'm trying to live alone.

Eros Turranos

She fears him, and will always ask
What fated her to choose him;
She meets in his engaging mask
All reasons to refuse him;
But what she meets and what she fears
Are less than are the downward years,
Drawn slowly to the foamless weirs
Of age, were she to lose him.

Between a blurred sagacity
That once had power to sound him,
And Love, that will not let him be
The Judas that she found him,
Her pride assuages her almost,
As if it were alone the cost. --
He sees that he will not be lost,
And waits and looks around him.

A sense of ocean and old trees
Envelops and allures him;
Tradition, touching all he sees,
Beguiles and reassures him;
And all her doubts of what he says
Are dimmed of what she knows of days --
Till even prejudice delays
And fades, and she secures him.

The falling leaf inaugurates
The reign of her confusion;
The pounding wave reverberates
The dirge of her illusion;
And home, where passion lived and died,
Becomes a place where she can hide,
While all the town and harbor side
Vibrate with her seclusion.

To her

Since we agreed to let the road between us
Fall to disuse,
And bricked our gates up, planted trees to screen us,
And turned all time's eroding agents loose,
Silence, and space, and strangers - our neglect
Has not had much effect.

Leaves drift unswept, perhaps; grass creeps unmown;
No other change.
So clear it stands, so little overgrown,
Walking that way tonight would not seem strange,
And still would be followed.
A little longer, And time would be the stronger,

Drafting a world where no such road will run
From you to me;
To watch that world come up like a cold sun,
Rewarding others, is my liberty.
Not to prevent it is my will's fulfillment.
Willing it, my ailment.

Goodbye !

What I remember

I remember you. I remember seeing you at the party. I remember thinking to myself how you stood out without standing out. You were different. I knew it then. I know it now.

As with now, back then you always wanted to know me. You didn't care about anything else. You just wanted to know me. You cared about what I thought. You cared about what I said. You cared.

It was funny because whenever I was with you it seemed so different. It was as if I stepped into a whole new reality. Everything around me went blank. For those few stolen moments I could really be me.

One word comes to mind. Soft. Your touch. The things you said. Soft. It made me feel like I was home. It gave me a comfort that I couldn't find in a place that was so foreign to me. Being different wasn't always good. Being with you was.

I may not have said it back then but I loved the time we had together. It was a nice break from being the me that everyone else expected. Now that we've grown up I find myself wanting to tell you that I love the time we have together.

Something to be

Hey man
I don't wanna hear about love no more
I don't wanna talk about how I feel
I don't really wanna be me no more

Dress down now I look a little too Boy next door
Maybe I should try to find a downtown whore
That'll make me look hardcore
I need you to tell me what to stand for

I've been looking for something
Something I've never seen
We're all looking for something
Something to be

Hey man
Play another one of those heartbreak songs
Tell another story how things go wrongA
nd they never get back
My pain is a platinum stack
Take that shit back
You don't wanna be me when it all goes wrong
You don't wanna see me with the houselights on
I'm a little too headstrong
Stand tallI don't wanna get walked on

I can't stand what I'm starting to be
I can't stand the people that I'm starting to need
There's so much now
That can go wrong
And I don't need somebody
Trying to help it along
It's the same old song
Everybody says you've been away too long
Everybody wanna take you what went wrong
Wanna make you like an icon
Till you believe that they're right

Rob Thomas, Something to be

The final stanza is exactly the way I've been feeling for the past year!