live to the point of tears (lachrymoselife) wrote,
live to the point of tears

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i loved you at all the wrong times

green t-shirts from t-ball days with acryllic paint stains and fuzzy lucky number sevens on the back make the sexiest pajamas on crisp summer evenings. long bare carefully shaven legs are delicate treats when you tangle them in silk sheets.
strawberry ice pops taste better when consumed with only your tongue. & have you ever tried to dry your long hair after swimming and emerging a mess of tangles by holding it straight out the window as you drive fifty miles per hour down wide country roads? the result is pure summer waves and streaks of sunlight worthy of a cosmo cover.
because summer days are quilts of such things, and the evenings are perfect for running, chasing the setting sun, determined to make it back home before all the light is gone.
i have to hold on to these days, even the parts that are spent alone, sunbathing on my roof reading the writing well: the art of nonfiction or driving & singing along to counting crows live and noticing that they change the words in mr. jones just a little, and realizing that you like them better this way. because it's how you feel isn't it, when everybody loves me, well i hope i'll never be lonely . because it's not a guarentee, just like this perfection i seek, it has to be continually out of reach, because i already know if i could get there i would have grown tired of the chase, i already know that i would come to realize that perfection was never what i wanted in the first place.
i just need goals, like running the chicago marathon someday, or simple things, like memorizing how to play jewel's foolish games on the piano before september comes my way, even though i haven't touched a key in a year or two. sometimes i need a lofty finishing line in order to motivate the first step or skip or leap depending on the day or choosen feat.
for some time now i've understood that i can't seem to fall in love with boy who is good for me, but lately i am beginning to think that i've grown bored of these fantasies that are created from delusions of love soaked in tradegy and boys too dilluted to see that i am what they need. love is losing its sting, because it has been so long since i've fallen, and i've floated off the edge of yesterday's precipices so many times that i have even lost the ability to provoke nostalgic butterflies. the drama summer was two years ago and i think i'm finally accepting that there is one boy i'll never really get to call my own. but that's okay. it's much more poetic that way.
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"i think i'm finally accepting that there is one boy i'll never really get to call my own. but that's okay. it's much more poetic that way."

i know what you mean. except i already have a boy to call my own, just not the right one it seems. i don't know. i never know anyways. but yes, you're right. everything is more poetic and deep that way. *sigh* if only it didn't hurt so much.
&you know what's funny? today i was reading :the art of creative writing. we just might be reading the same (authored)-books.

Poetry always hurts.

I think that's sort of the point.

There's something that makes pain deeper than happiness, just by virtue of being unpleasant. I could probably write an epic essay on this topic, but it's too late to wax philosophical.
i think just the darkness of anything makes it more beautiful. as is pain. as is depression. as is hatred. i'm not making sense. you probably can explain things better than i ever can.

i like the way you think.
mind being friends?
That makes sense. Happy emotions are wonderful, but there's more depth in the dark.

And thanks! My first instinct would be a resounding "I don't have time to read any more LJs," but after looking over your journal, I can't help wanting to read everything you write. So I've added you.
oh! thank you. that was really very sweet of you to say. no one's ever said anything that nice about my journal before. =)
ah dosi, i don't think i've gotten around to telling you how much i missed you yet!! but yes, i did. some day i'd like to read that epic essay, i'm sure i could relate to it immensely.
oh yes, you understand exactly.
& even if they aren't the same authored, i would love to read that book you were reading. who is it by?
oh-my. im struggling to remember the authors' name. its not with me right now i left it at my boy's house. letme get back to you on this please?
but of course. whenever you remember!
i absolutely ADORE you and ADORE your words!! please come home with me!
haha why thank you! i'd love to :)
the entire beginning half of that entry was lovely. now i have the urge to drive down the road going 50 mph and hang my wet hair out the window.

ooh, and i tan by laying on the roof, too. :)
oh please do! you feel so alive, i promise. & the roof is the best place to tan because you're just a little bit closer to the sun :)
yep, and you're above the trees, so they can't block the sun from you. and you also get away from the bugs that crawl around on the ground or in the grass.

the only bad thing is that you're in a better view of the neighbors.