Listening to sweet syrup music, thinking about my future and what I’ll leave behind
There’s a heavy feeling in my chest, almost that I’ll miss Colorado. I’ve lost and found myself continuously in the past two months, in the past year even. I’m afraid of how great my future could be, and how hard i’ll have to work for it. Of saving money, being frugal, making sacrifices, finding love, sleeping on the beach. I’m excited to travel, to discover, to forgive and forget. Saying goodbye is so bittersweet, especially under recent circumstances. Goodbye sweet, sweet Boulder. Distant Erie, distant friends and family. Goodbye to the last five years. Goodbye to all the good and bad I’ve been through, all the work I’ve done to get to where I am today. Today and tomorrow and forever, on and on and on. My words pour from my mouth in a stream of babble, like I can’t get the words and thoughts out fast enough. I’m okay being confused, reminiscent, happy, cold. It’s mainly this song and lack of sleep over and over again which have inspired me to ramble. I do ramble a lot, and it just feels better to put it out on the internet where I don’t know who will read, or care.
Things are about to get sweeter, June. I love you, I love all
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
The Paper Kites - Featherstone
And my love is yours, but your love’s not mine
So I’ll go but we know I’ll see you down the line
And we’ll hate what we’ve lost, but we’ll love what we find
And I’m feeling fine, we made it to the coastline
This is disgusting, and also a first.
How does this happen? Even a small encounter with someone can completely change my lifetime course. I feel like I’ve already chosen a path at this fork in the road, only to be picked up and put on the opposite side. I like speaking cryptically, it gives me a chance to pretend that I’m retelling someone else’s life.
RIP, Rest In Peace
I think of the last time I saw you, how we weren’t even great friends, but how I feel connected to you nonetheless. You were always nice to me, but you had your faults. Everyone does. I will not speak ill of the dead, especially since you meant so much to so many people. I can’t process it. How does something so important just end that quickly? I thought someone was fucking with me. This is death, this is something I think about every single day but never fully process. It’s now scarier, seeing that it’s so close. It could take me at any single second, but right now it’s not about me. I don’t want to live like that anyways, thinking about what could happen. I feel selfish for talking about it like this, but there’s not really anyone to talk to. I’m at a loss for words. The last time I knew someone that died was when I was five years old. I didn’t fully process it. I’m just rambling off every thought that comes across my mind in hope of feeling something related to a sense of relief. I worry about what people will think of this, think of me, which is unusual with my personality. Things change, this is a different moment. Today, this weekend, the last two weeks, the last two months, have changed me. I want to keep changing until I find myself, until death finds me, cycling. This is nonsense, this is mine, I’m a bit scared.
What happens now?
“tyga look like he died of aids 10 times in a row den put On a lether jakket”
— Bennett on Tyga (via welcometotomi)
