I won't beg for comments. but comment, fuckers.

& dear, you're not fooling anybody.
But we can scoff at your kicking good tries just for the sake of making conversation.
Like we're blindly putting ourselves above it, and watching you slip beneath.
A song displaces me
and I am unmovable, patient for your turn at that

Now don't you go all sad on me.. because you know i'm just going to follow suit. I can't smile when you're staring so far down. In an outpatient inpatiently waiting glance of recognition, we could conquire the world whenever if only our ears would find good news. Tear out newspaper clippings to salvage the idea that this is not a 7 year damnation of selfish children and terroristic uniforms of guilt. The last songs of the summer floated in and out like the general store just out of our reach, so comfortable in our helplessness, a third world country barrier of acceptance. We were not going anywhere...a simple underscore for everytime we were forced to tread water. Everytime the sun goes down, I catch myself looking for the people that are pushing me foward. Lost belief I could run on my own a long time ago. And I'm kind of doing alright. Catching blurbs here and there as a subtle reminder to step up and become. Only be for as little as possible, we need to become. Playing sad just to feel anything at all. This heat wave of emotion is nothing but a scripted plot to draw attention, I'm so sick of you all trying to show affection. Like any of this matters. Like this isn't a stable attempt to get you onto the next, onto the next, onto the next until we are comfortable in this helplessness. Mastering the art of breaking hearts, like it's all we learned in high school. I can hold a conversation without slight hesitiation but it's never been so uncommon.

I blame myself for everything, ever, everywhere, everywhere. What is this void. What am I trying to fill. And why did it go missing in the first place.

I have udnerstood every outcome before it even happens, anymore. Every night of bickering is nothing but an empty dislocation of ourselves, we still have not the slightest idea of where we are going, we are only aware of where we have been so many nights before this. With and without each other, were we ever with each other. I cant help but doubt sometimes, but only sometimes. I need social setting. I need admiration. I need proof of success. Proof of purchase. Proof of justice. that this world is not an ugly place with ugly people and ugly ideas that feed off of each other like lies that tie together into society and everything we cant be. Everything I need to be. My throat gets tighter and the streets get wider but I am stuck in repeat. The sky could fold and we'd probably still be sitting here. I don't know whats going on or what that even meant.

awfuckdisshit.

Well I know a girl who changes for every boy she ever did meet, but it's safe to say when she's in the clear, don't doubt dear, it's not happiness that drips from her eyes. It takes practice, a darkly beautiful arrangement of folded lies. & then after, It's the breakdown, it's a scene. But she'd have us all fooled, or at least you. A little faster now, Where is the direction? Listen, I stand by, watch this movie show for free, & slip my gaze from the ground being pulled out from under me.

this is past the bar of ridiculous//the best years of our life//sit suspended, when no matter what you say, it still pains me to tell you, dear, some things will never change.

I am second-guessing everything, and that might be what makes a noble prize scientist, but I am not here to question the things that keep me awake at night. Why can everyone else always say what I mean better than myself?

A smart head keeps from trouble. God I must be humble. Look at the lot of us. The moral definition of lost but the first kids who do not want to be found.

Show me your mark. I'm ready to break hearts. I looked into the sky, and alone decided, The interstate and I are a lot alike.

I careen through a blur in hopes to a place that feels like home. But when are these streets ever empty? But when are these streets solely ours?

 It's sad, in a way some things are meant to not look past. But if we always look ahead, we'll forget we ever enjoyed looking back.

Times are not over, we're just more crowded now. Finding ways to pass the time until a moment happens memorable enough to call off the search.

comment//feedback is the only motivation i keep//

I believe that it is just as easy to worry as not too. This is Bettendorf for god sakes.

You will touch lives of people but you also will not.

This is Bettendorf and it has lost all of it’s magic here. The streets, the neighborhoods, the people, have spent unceasingly amounts of time, living in one place, this is Bettendorf and it’s glamour washed away with yesterday’s rain. There is nothing with magnitude every morning when our whole lives are spent living in one place, here we sit to wait to lose our hopes and dreams. Only if, we are suspended without change we lose everything that was ever given to us.

Because god knows it doesn’t take much to set me free. God knows with Mars Volta, a painted night sky, and a quiet trip home along the river side, ((the wind louder than our thoughts and our voices of such compassion, whether it is just convinced falsity with our words or not, there is still passion, well) god knows it’s what keeps me sane.

C’mon, it’s only a mistake if you make it one. C’mon, it’s only a regret if you let it be.

I guess I’ll show you how I am. That’s what we’re here for at this stupid party anyway, right? We’re here to meet and to greet.To fuck. To dance. To scream and to shout.

To laugh, and to drink this warm beer, that’s what we’re here for.

To meet new people, to put numbers in our phones that we’ll never call.

Here’s to lying and bragging the next day, here’s to passing out, to throwing up, to laughing till you cry, and to not get one fucking bit of sleep.

… It’s a party and it’s only a regret if you let it be.

When people always claim they have no sense of direction it’s usually everyone else’s that they take. When people claim they have no direction in life it is everyone else’s that they later claim.

 But we all stare at the sun and we’ve all cheated our way to the top

To be perfect in this society is to hide it best. To be perfect is to put up the best façade. The ones you look up to are just looking up to one more step up than you. The ones you admire all admire something higher than you. The ones you think are gods are worshiping something you are so less a version of.

We’ve all stared at the sun we’ve all done something out of spite. We’ve all bit the curb we’ve all held on to keep from falling off the earth on a windy night.

My opinions on people stray and I come to the realization that half of what people are is only them trying to be who they want to be.

I am free and you will keep me.

You say you believe in nothing.

Believe in something, or there will be nothing.

These words are too empty 

to affect anyone who comes across them.

& I follow suit.

<considered not my best>

And I guess I'll just drop into the waiting line because it's the place where I'm best fit.

Is it true that you should keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? There was never going to be someone who got to her like he did...the new urge for the childish desire to run away was replaced with a need to chase after it instead, a complete opposite of sorts. It counted for something more than late night conversations. "Let's see where our hearts take us." And they took them straight to the ground.

The days might have gotten shorter, things might have fallen into place. The point is, no one ever understands how anything turns out like it does. I like it that way...unremarkably unwritten, this is a lifetime where second guesses are unheard of. Where overthinking non-existant on at least one side of these streets.

Oh well. The worst expression to leave at a standstill, saying 'oh well' fixes nothing, but kills our conversation with the bitterist defeat inside our hearts. Or at least mine.

Is it smart to something that you can see the end of? If we end up nowhere than at least we've lost nothing.

And I refuse to believe many things I'm told, although there are just as many things I strongly believe in. The sun goes above my head, and through my fingertips in this portrait of a rarely beautifully written summer.

At times it was almost as if her hopes were much greater than lying to themselves, depending on themselves. Depending to believe that it was the closest thing to love they will ever feel, she was waiting for a storybook love that might never come and let the closest to it slip by. And it was pretty clear it was less than love, their teenage desire for lust taking control in the backseat.

Oh, and it was so much less than anything I'd call love, but it was the best way for a summer night to be light with anticipation. It was a relief in the strangest of places, to realize how we went home and didn't debate the outcome.

It's good to always be able to pick up where you've left off.