eternal sunshine and the spotless mind

2004-10-01, 2:01 a.m.

so im not the only one who rips apart the images of a saturday afternoon like a child rips apart gift wrapping. i dont feel alone in saying i nearly cave in when i remember little conversations and shared secrets that show themselves to be merely thoughtless seductions.

its sort of like opening yourself and allowing another person to take whatever organs they want to decorate the interior of their new home. its a home i dont belong in, never did belong in, and none of my silly future plottings i once had could get me safely inside. this is the threshold that i walk along, because we humans have the ability to create windows of opportunity from even the slimmest of chances. -i COULD- -SOMEday- -it MAY happen-

do i want it to happen again? i was 'barking up the wrong tree' all along. fuck, i wasnt even barking, and what i found didnt even resemble that cliche tree that we speak of. i was thrust into a sea that had no innate compassion for any person that was caught in its waves. this was the coldness of the baltic region, frigid winds that cut throught the whitecaps, deep into my chest, surgical precision found all my weaknesses; all my desires.

one thing to say is i found myself constructing realities from day one (i should say night one.) so now im stuck with those shutter bug lens memories that collect in the pages of this summertime scrap book. sieging the black surface, kaleidascopic emotions play hide and seek in the space and time of two-person encounters.

opening doors to a house where the light came in from all sides and made everything lemon yellow.

one windy day where a song leads to another song that would have meaning stapled to their hearts, and the beating would never be the same.

(im no longer ashamed to write what i write because the reoccurence of hearbreak assures me its not adolescence, its human nature)

and a kiss, and stuttering palms that want to place every subtle feature of another person on a map the size of a singularity... i knew the last time would be then, and i said goodbye even though my head asked for one more chance.