“It’s that moment before the jump, you know? When the world sinks away just because you’re thinking about it. I’d just give anything to…”
“Y’see, what I want is…”
“I never really thought that…”
“But that’s what I want to know!”
“What if it doesn’t matter? What if we’re wrong?”
“What if it’s just me that…”
“What if we don’t even live to tomorrow?”
“Would it matter if I…”
“Do you even love…?”
“Do I matter? What makes people so…”
“If I were…”
“If you were…”
“Do I really seem that way to you? All my life I thought you were…”
“Some people just don’t understand that…”
“Of course I’m lost! Only a fuckjob thinks they know what they’re doing!”
“I’m going to…”
“They deserve it and when I get them I’ll…”
“Honest, really, I’m honest. Why doesn’t anyone trust that a…”
“I am more than my skin and face!”
“I am more than this!”
“I am more…”
“I am more…”
“I am less…”
“I am less than you think I am.”
“I guess I just didn’t want…”
“I am something and I don’t know what.”
“I am something and it’s not something I want to be.”
“I want to be someone else. I just need…”
“No one is who I think they are.”
“No one is…”
“No one…”
“Everyone…”
“CAN EVERYONE JUST…”
“Can I just be alone?”
“Can I EVER be alone?”
“I don’t want to be alone. Don’t you feel sometimes…”
“Don’t you think sometimes…”
“Sorry.”
“I’m sorry. I just…”
“No, why does talking always make it worse? Why can’t everyone…”
“It’s always my fault. I always fuck things up and it pisses me off because…”
“And I’m afraid because I know they’re right and I don’t…”
“Do you remember that time when…”
“Yeah, and we…”
“Do you know why we forget things so easily? I wonder why he…”
“What if everything really is okay?”
“What if sometimes…”
“Sometimes I think I really can…”
“I just need to remember….”
“That reminds me of this time…”
“Can you even believe this wonderful shit?”
“That didn’t happen! No way.”
“It did! It did, and then…”
“Alright, maybe it is okay.”
“I could do anything right now. Just show me something and I can do it.”
“If we’re not dead yet, what could stop us?”
“Does death really…?”
“What happens when?”
“I care because…”
“I want to because…”
“I am because…”
“Don’t worry. Tomorrow we’ll…”
“I love you guys.”
“See you…”
“Catch you…”
“Hope to…”
“Praying for…”
“Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
One person, two person, three, perhaps four, sitting in plastic lawn chairs that circle a barrel of flame. Where they were was not important, but every night they gathered to talk.
A young addict listened with deaf ears, sleep filtering words above. They never knew of the one daily buried in concrete underneath, but it was her home they dragged their chairs across each night.
Voices braided in and out. Sometimes, in her pit of want she understood the yearning of the voices above. When footsteps shook the slab of sidewalk, she knew the voices had finally gone back to their homes. They had places to be and lives to live, and in her sleep she smiled wearily at the thought.
She remembered the confusion of a younger girl who found, when cutting into a dead man’s skull, that a thousand thousand thoughts did not spill from that gaping head onto the ground.
She had searched so perplexed. Not a single thought could she find in that brain. She had searched for hours and hours. Nowhere. Not a letter, not a word. Just empty organics. No sense to it, or to the words which rained from above and sunk into the meat of the earth.
Don’t worry. She rolled over in her sleep. Things will…
“Y’see, what I want is…”
“I never really thought that…”
“But that’s what I want to know!”
“What if it doesn’t matter? What if we’re wrong?”
“What if it’s just me that…”
“What if we don’t even live to tomorrow?”
“Would it matter if I…”
“Do you even love…?”
“Do I matter? What makes people so…”
“If I were…”
“If you were…”
“Do I really seem that way to you? All my life I thought you were…”
“Some people just don’t understand that…”
“Of course I’m lost! Only a fuckjob thinks they know what they’re doing!”
“I’m going to…”
“They deserve it and when I get them I’ll…”
“Honest, really, I’m honest. Why doesn’t anyone trust that a…”
“I am more than my skin and face!”
“I am more than this!”
“I am more…”
“I am more…”
“I am less…”
“I am less than you think I am.”
“I guess I just didn’t want…”
“I am something and I don’t know what.”
“I am something and it’s not something I want to be.”
“I want to be someone else. I just need…”
“No one is who I think they are.”
“No one is…”
“No one…”
“Everyone…”
“CAN EVERYONE JUST…”
“Can I just be alone?”
“Can I EVER be alone?”
“I don’t want to be alone. Don’t you feel sometimes…”
“Don’t you think sometimes…”
“Sorry.”
“I’m sorry. I just…”
“No, why does talking always make it worse? Why can’t everyone…”
“It’s always my fault. I always fuck things up and it pisses me off because…”
“And I’m afraid because I know they’re right and I don’t…”
“Do you remember that time when…”
“Yeah, and we…”
“Do you know why we forget things so easily? I wonder why he…”
“What if everything really is okay?”
“What if sometimes…”
“Sometimes I think I really can…”
“I just need to remember….”
“That reminds me of this time…”
“Can you even believe this wonderful shit?”
“That didn’t happen! No way.”
“It did! It did, and then…”
“Alright, maybe it is okay.”
“I could do anything right now. Just show me something and I can do it.”
“If we’re not dead yet, what could stop us?”
“Does death really…?”
“What happens when?”
“I care because…”
“I want to because…”
“I am because…”
“Don’t worry. Tomorrow we’ll…”
“I love you guys.”
“See you…”
“Catch you…”
“Hope to…”
“Praying for…”
“Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
One person, two person, three, perhaps four, sitting in plastic lawn chairs that circle a barrel of flame. Where they were was not important, but every night they gathered to talk.
A young addict listened with deaf ears, sleep filtering words above. They never knew of the one daily buried in concrete underneath, but it was her home they dragged their chairs across each night.
Voices braided in and out. Sometimes, in her pit of want she understood the yearning of the voices above. When footsteps shook the slab of sidewalk, she knew the voices had finally gone back to their homes. They had places to be and lives to live, and in her sleep she smiled wearily at the thought.
She remembered the confusion of a younger girl who found, when cutting into a dead man’s skull, that a thousand thousand thoughts did not spill from that gaping head onto the ground.
She had searched so perplexed. Not a single thought could she find in that brain. She had searched for hours and hours. Nowhere. Not a letter, not a word. Just empty organics. No sense to it, or to the words which rained from above and sunk into the meat of the earth.
Don’t worry. She rolled over in her sleep. Things will…