5:37 p.m. 2003-10-26
I want to look like the person i am inside, i dunno if i would be more attractive or not, but that part doesn't matter so much. The important thing would be knowing that, walking down the streets, everyone would know me and i wouldn't have to bother explaining myself. I would never have to lie again and the truth would be screaming out at you.
If i looked like my insides, it would be quite the look wouldn't it? My eyes would be cold, icy blue piercing you. There would be peace in my face and laughlines around my eyes and mouth. But the pain would be obvious in the piercings and studs interrupting the smooth serenity of my complexion. A scream and a sigh and a smile would all come equally easily to my lips, lips that would be comfortable in silence. Lips that would be made to kiss you. You would look at me and see that i was broken, but that pain is only part of who i am. You would see me and know, that i was naked before anyone who looked and that i would listen to you if you wanted to talk. But i'm stuck with the face i was born with and u'll have to get to know me to see any of that.
Maybe its better this way maybe not
I was in a fragile, ethereal, glass-blown mood today. My guitar and i got along wonderfully, both of them and i'm really amazed at how easily music flowed from me, and how melodies came in the resonant tones of my acoustic and the crunching shatter (its my word now and i'll use it how i like) of my electric. I felt like a musician today. and anyone who plays, tune ur acoustic drop D and then everything else down 1 half step... its amazing.
Where are you? Where are you going? What happened to you?
Does she trust me with this gesture, or is it just resignation? A constant question as i read.
back & forth