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catch us
11:05 p.m. 2005-09-04

How can you change when it kills your soul? Today i sat down and looked at my hands, for the first time in months. Covered in grease and dirt and smelling of cold steel and cigarettes, the lines that dictate my humanity. And things have changed, and i'm not who i was. And sitting there, i felt the sting of tears in my eyes and the terrible heaviness of the soul that has killed so many. I am nothing, i am inconstant and utterly commonplace. I am no longer someone beautiful or special. I'm not the boy she fell in love with, or the boy you fell in love with. I am nothing. Watching the lines of my hands change, watching the running river of my life, i watched everything in my heart that i treasured drift away, i watched the scant, sullied facets of myself that were beautiful sink like wrecked ships in the distance. I am no longer a shining star. And do you know how it hurt to see the truth of it in my hands and in my mind and in every aspect of my life and my reflection? I fought to hold on, to be better, to become something more than sometimes good, and in the process forfeited everything that i was. And what do you do when you feel yourself slip away?
If i could believe in god, in a god within myself or projected across the skyline, living in the satelites and the stars, i could give up this vile worthless existence, this "grave of a body." If i could find you hiding amongst the leaves of the trees, or in the quivering skylines of the city, i could forget that I am so insignificant. If i could feel you around me, if you were everywhere and everything, if only for a short slipping time, i could give up on giving in. And i don't know if you're there, but if you are you're hiding. And why are you hiding? You are not Christ, you are no fucking named diety imposing your rules and your structure, and you've been engraved as such. I flinch at the mention of a god, because i hate the image of the christian god i have been indoctrinated into. but honestly i don't know why you're fucking hiding from me, why you've made your love so clear to others and why i feel so alone. This isn't how we were meant to live...

On a bus ride into town
I wondered, "Why am I going to town?"
As I looked around
At the billboards and the stores
I thought, "Why do I look around?"

I got up and bowed
And I kissed the filthy ground
And in the first dry spot I found
I laid back down
Without having to wonder
Why I was laying down

before long i was too cold,
and so i took a bus back to the station,
i found a letter left by a pay phone with no return contact.
and it read like a horn blown by some sad angel.
"bunny, it was me, it was me who let you down"
it was the shyest attempt i'd ever seen at conversation.

if i didnt have you as my guide,
i'd still wander lost in Sinai counting the plates of cars from out of state.
(how i could jump in their path as they hurry along!)
until you surround me,
you're pretty but youre all i can see, like a thick fog - if there was no way into god,
i would never have laid in this grave,
a body, for so long.

St. Cyril's fair always came through the first week of September,
but it's already the 19th and there's no sign of it yet.
i have a hard time remembering the things i should remember,
and a hard time forgetting all the things i should forget.
Oh Christ, when you're ready to come back,
i think im ready for you to come back,
but if you want to stay wherever exactly it is you are, that's okay too -
its really none of my business.

and if i didn't have you as my guide, i'd still be wandering lost in Sinai
or down by the tracks, watching trains go by to remind me:
there are places that aren't here.
i had a well but all the water left,
so i'll ask for your forgiveness with every breath,
if there was no way into god,
i would never have laid in this grave of a body...so long, dear

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words @ jake, layout @ kelly