quarta-feira, 27 de maio de 2009

Ill Musician.

I'm sorry hun, I just haven't been feeling myself lately.
I have thoughts, that run through my brain as if they were readying themselves for a marathon. But know they will win no trophy. They are strong, heavy, and persistant. They make me miss you, and they make me miss me. Yeah this rides been fun, but i'm getting a little queasy. And I still remember our July afternoons, Long Island was a blast with your face stamped on it.

I can't help this shaking, cigarettes in the morning despite them making me hungrier and it causes me alot of pain. But lately I just haven't cared. And God dear, i'm so tired of stepping outside. My bones hurt so much from walking and walking, it's so needless when you aren't around. I leave the house on rainy days, the air is heavy on my cloudy lungs but the sun will hurt my sleepless eyes. And despite them being this way, i've slept so much my back hurts.

I've no goals anymore without you by my side, i'm sorry i've become this. I think you'll be happy to hear that despite the pain in my fingers i've managed to play some guitar, but there is no more audience, just a cat outside my window and a picture of a man on life support on the back of my cigarettes whom I can relate to. It appears the big city is way more lonely than i initialy thought. So far my conclusion dear is that: Love is in the air but my nose is stuffed.

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