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measure me in metered lines, and one decicive stare, ...the time it takes to get from here to there.
october has forever been my most favorite month.
most people choose the month of thier birthday, or the summer when schools out.
i always get restless this time of year
the end that summer promises held, undone
the fact that the year is dying slow, i'm getting older,
increadible perfect days of moderet weather just enough leaf cover and warm sun light that doesn't want to fade.
the way every sad song, or every well done happy one makes a fitting soundtrack
i've always had the most up's and down's emotionally in this month, so much that reminds me of so much that makes me want so much that will make me think of so much that makes me miss so much
i'm restless.
Get clobbered on by courtesy, in love with love, and lousy poetry. And I'm leaning on a broken fence between Past and Present tense.
i've spent so much time of my life relying on romantic notions of being in a perfect love with perfect girls and bleeding my heart for the feeling and heartaches that come with imperfect girls and a high school mentality and an increadibly sense for perfectly being to blame for self inflicted shyness and an inability to say what i mean communicate what should be in order for some sort of progression favorable or not.
but there was such a sense from the weather and the driving and the soundtrack that made me want to draw it all out, and finally the comfort of being alone and broken hearted and all the sad beauty
i don't have any of it these days.
there is no need for it, it is no longer a necessity of life, it is not fundamental to my being to drive threw the fog of back roads with the stars and Robert bleeding for me on the radio.
i don't stay up nights focusing on an image of a perfect conversation, the final relay of my hearts content and the out comes, or just fixating on one face and holding it as long as i possibly can
there is no need. but i feel the wind on my face and a twang of guitars calls for me to remember and deep down someone inside calls me a cheater, how can i be happy with not being unhappy?
it's all new feelings, and i'm still not sleeping anyways but it's nothing so dramatic just plain isomnia built out of habit not real concerns or questions with no answers
i know how it should be, but i'm still not always sure how to take it no matter how i try
I'm unconsoled, I'm lonely. I am so much better than I used to be. Terrified of telephones and shopping mall, and knives, and drowning in the pools of over lives.
and october is my favorite month, for the simplicity of perfect moments of weather and radio and raod, and then the challenges of mind and reflection.
i know this time of year, how i get,
it all will pass
thats what i'm never sure of
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