& at times, remembering

1boy, 1 girl. 2 minds tellin' secrets. all thoughts are of our own unless otherwise noted. var sc_project=7703373; var sc_invisible=0; var sc_security="e22c542b";

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

Words. Words. Words. Words. Just, words. Words.  Words. Words. Words. Beeping and scratching and, repetitive music fans circulating dead air, the heat forms movement. Following words.  Accepting words.  Craving words. Focus on,words. Words. Words. Words. Hedonistic words as that dirty whore from last weekend falling victim to nights temptation. Fucking words as that conniving moment one searches love while the other, sensation. Blinding words as that, read between the lines secret, pay attention for hidden indiscretion. Too afraid to say what another might give anything to words, judgmental, criticized, forgotten. Forgotten words raping the air surrounding us meaning nothing but another memory losing focus. Written words. Words. Words. Words. Written words of, slit wrists spewing alphabets. Hedonistic vocabulary, cries for sanity, searching a meaning a meaning to the words we go round and around with day in, day out, sun beam meets moonchild words. Words. Words. Words. The one place I give my everything to. Weak words, strong words, angry words, loving words kinky words, depress encompassed words, insecure words, endless words. Words. Words. Words. Words. And, more words.

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

I miss you, in between moments of forgetting. For the moment of yearning has crept its way in like a bill collector, only craving a pen.

I need to document your moments, so I may never forget these moments I might forget if you come one step closer for, these moments of yesterdays and tomorrows all, make my now somewhat frightening even. You, make me, forget things in ways I had always hoped I'd, forget things I never knew how to whole heartedly remember in the first place. You, make me, forget things. 

[sheeluv-blog]

my sister,

stated if i were alive during the 60s i would have been a complete groupie.. the penny lane. not sure if this is a compliment or her way of telling me i fall in love too easily with musicians.. but hell, i don’t mind. i love a man who spends time learning an instrument, a poetic mind & real life soundtrack.. give me somethin’ different. ps. i would have definitely been a bra burner as well. xox.

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

posted july 25th of 2011? 10? Made me laugh :)

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

Inspire me. Introduce me to the inspiring. Think differently. Take your time with your thoughts. Visualize a response before speaking. Strike a conversation with a subject other than work, parties, complaints, or fillers.. never speak in fillers. Listen to world music. Introduce me to new world music. Dance with eyes closed and appreciate the handy work presented between your eardrums. Ma

ke love to the musical sensation. Paint things. Draw things. Photograph things. Introduce me to new artists and thinkers. Philosophize your life. Embrace your in betweens. Enjoy silence. Listen. Introduce yourself to uncomfortable silences. Spend time alone. Treat yourself to a romantic evening. Date yourself before dating others to truly know the you you're offering to another. Introduce me to the inner, at core, you.

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

i am lost in one of my awkward moments again. head is dead and gone in a million different directions. thoughts overshadow reasoning. words find comfort within run on sentences behind eyelids and my heart has been skipping beats since yesterday's morning. pitt- --er pitterpat- --ter pitterpatter. pit. i let you in, when all you wanted was out. 

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

words have run dry. mindset slowing, voice box numbing. by not complicating, we've complicated.

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

i've written timeless words lowercases turned capitals adjectives met abbreviations yet somewhere among my short breathed innuendoes short sited attempt at bidding you goodbye, i only miss you more. 

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

i sleep with headphones. like most sleep with eye masks. drowning out the thought of you with a level 9 pitch hoping the memories may forget about my dreams for one blessed evening and as i dance my way to sleep, i remind myself tomorrow is a new day of uncertainty and even if i promised myself yesterday that today were a new day, i believe it more so under this new moonlight. bonne nuit. 

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

i have this weird infatuation with witnessing church goin' type, getting completely wasted off liquid courage and yesterdays newspaper; throwing their religious ambiguities up & down the drain with their morning breakfast. 

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

you keep those close to you exactly where you need them to be. in between the cracks of sanity and in; as if the thought of them learning the truth of you, might break your essence entirely. 

[its-about-forgetting-blog]

I've found this new found love for minimalism. its as if, my life has began feeling too distracted and, the feeling i get when looking at this simple yet intricate object engulfed in negative space surrounding each of its delicate corners, romantic really. i am reminded its quite alright to be alone; beautiful really.

so why then, do i feel this way? sad. & i've been sad for what seems forever now.

february 15th, 2012 and i've forgotten how to cry.