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No transitory
6:47 p.m. 2005-01-01

And you...
There never was room for the effigies stacked outside your window. Perhaps these tunnels have given way to alterations but this core stays the same but maybe you were right. Could fear have lit this flame somewhere inside that is creating this change? Or maybe I haven't changed and the curtains are falling as you sit in the crowd disappointed that the presentation was different than you expected. Well fuck it. The truth is that there are things that we don't know things that we can't ever hope to understand and maybe right now I am one of those things to myself. Maybe this mirror image isn't what i expected or maybe the fact is that memory isn't reliable. But regardless, somethings don't change... did you know that? Love is not something liquid and maleable subject to change and constant transformation. Love isn't. Love may not always be the same but love is not a fucking transient emotion. Can you understand that? Love can be a maelstrom raging around you consuming you and creating things that we cannot describe contain or control. Love can be quiet insistant and eternal, etheral and fragile but constant and enduring. Love is. Love does not just disappear. Unless we've fooled ourselves and mistaken something for something different. Please oh please just tell us if he is who we always thought he was, if he is we will still love him and if he is not we will learn to love him anyway. No fucking transitory.
She sang a song telling a story of the boy she used to know. And when she saw him she realized that he wasn't who she thought he was. And yet... she never considered that maybe she was not herself either. How can i be expected to read your mind? The silent calls will never be answered; the ring in return that drives us from slumber summons up realization. This is humanity; the only way we will ever know each other is through communication. How can i know i'm needed if the words are never spoken? How can you fucking expect this of me? Never never never. As the mouth was sewn shut she whispered her secrets to the null void. And the words disappeared forever. She asked with dry lips for patience and forgiveness, words dying on the tongue as the silence hung above us. She said wait and he waited, he did not know what he was waiting for or how long to wait but he did. "never make a move until i tell you to..." how can i be expected to know what you need from me when you are this closed off? DOn't you see that this is runing in circles a paradox of words and letters that are significant only in their whole? What i mean is... you cannot express your need when you are 'bottled up' and how do i let you know i care if i don't know that anything is wrong? Can you see that? Or am i just blind? On nights like tonight i know i know i know right now i know. But before... how was i to understand?
"...a life of fearlessness that left him with a heavily scarred body and an arm left useless from accidentally shooting up rat poison..."
Should i be scared or should i throw this fear away and just take my chances. I have my share of scars, drawn by your fingernails and the words you shared with everyone else. I may be scarred, but i am not afraid. And that's the truth. Because you know what? The consequences are exactly what i've created everything we do is our responsibility. Every gash on my body is a testament to the decisions i make. I am not afraid to live because i know that i can bare these wounds. Tattoo the name of everyone who has hurt me across my chest... leave a space for you and me. We let them hurt us. Do you understand? Whatever happens happens and... i guess i can live with that because there is love and there is the sun and the moon and the beautiful clouds and the whisper of wind and the power of a night spent alone under the stars. I can deal with the consequences of coincidence because my love asks nothing in return. I do not care in hopes of being cared for, i care because there is nothing else... this is the root of everything. If i did not care i would not hurt and yet i would not appreciate the beauty of your har in the wind or the way her eyes almost seem to be the same as mine. If i did not care i would not write this to you or to her or them i would not weep at these beautiful words and the melodies that are the sum of my existence. There is fear and doubt and hesistance and pain through caring but it is the reason that we get up and keep walking. You can break my but i will not stop caring you can shatter my hopes dreams and fantasies you can spend your nights with them or him or anyone but it wont' change the fact that i care about all of you.

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words @ jake, layout @ kelly