Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
I feel as if my dreams are far too confused and personal, and I would never want to see movies of them. Last night, I spoke my mind to someone and I could never imagine doing that to this person in real life. I am reaching the end of the deployment cycle, I'm falling off. Dreams are audio-visual bursts of distorted reality, and there is some certainty when I say that I am me in them. Goodnight, Mr. Squire.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
These are the nights I come home to take a bath and sleep in my own bed. These are the nights I wander the city, not amazed but feeling the energy. These are the nights I taste the electricity on the tip of my tongue. These are the days I sit in the dark and am consumed by cinema. These are the days I gouge my eyes out. These are the days I feel everything. These are the days I feel nothing. These are the days I tell you that you cannot tell me that I cannot start a sentence with "these." These are the days I daydream and drift, but never forget where I came from. These are the nights where I break out a bottle of red and let Jack and Bill take over. These are the days I wonder if I'll condemn later. These are the days I reach deep down inside and still do not understand the core of my self. These are the days I'm frightened will end. These are the days I know will not end.