apsterling
06/21/09, 08:12 PM
This is kinda the first time I've done this, but I basically streamed came to mind and presented it if that makes since. It's sorta poetic only because that's how I think, so let me know about it.
I want to be the guy in the pictures with the girl, smiling and wrapping his arm around her back, laughing in the sun, hair swaying in the wind; perfect day, celebrate, sunset, everything seen only in the pictures we all wish we’d been there to be a part of. I want a love or friendship that surpasses expectations, ignores discontent, rejects regret and respects our other friends.
I’d dedicate my time to her and what we want, but not by going out of my way. I’ll make every effort to keep her close, but not choke ourselves on the friendship or love. We’d understand each other, and when it all becomes too much for one to handle, we’d realize there’s two parts to everything. Whatever doesn’t end us just makes us better, more fun and understanding than should be possible.
And someday maybe we’ll see a different calling. If I’m lucky I’ll tour with my band. If all goes well she’ll be studying up in the mountains. But we’ll be okay, and understand what happened. Maybe even keep our friendship alive, if only on the Intensive Care lifeline of a telephone cable, snapping by the least of pressure, but sustaining words that could kill.
And that’s okay, cause I’ll be the guy that will be there for every girl or guy that comes his way. I’ll unconditionally be a friend, in some girls cases’ a lover, and if all goes well it’ll come back my way. And if all doesn’t go well, I’ll continue on hopeless optimism’s wings reconditioning myself to “love again” or “find a reason” to go on forever, the same as the previous day. And then, maybe this cycle will reimburse those days with a brighter light.
Because in the end, each girl that’s taken me by storm is a light. Some are brighter, and some need less electricity. Some burn out, and some fake it till I realize it’s the fixture. And some just shatter into billions of splinters on my floor, awaiting a broom or vacuum to clean up the pieces of our friendship. But maybe someday she’ll be the light to go on when I think of her, and I’ll be her light.
But for now, I’m the boy on the queen sized bed, second floor of the house on the hill in Winston-Salem, “vacationing”, dreaming, thinking of how it always works. And realizing there’s more to this than meets the label of optimism or pessimism. I fall deadpan in the middle, and it’s the most insightful thing to me.
Ready or not. Here I come.
I want to be the guy in the pictures with the girl, smiling and wrapping his arm around her back, laughing in the sun, hair swaying in the wind; perfect day, celebrate, sunset, everything seen only in the pictures we all wish we’d been there to be a part of. I want a love or friendship that surpasses expectations, ignores discontent, rejects regret and respects our other friends.
I’d dedicate my time to her and what we want, but not by going out of my way. I’ll make every effort to keep her close, but not choke ourselves on the friendship or love. We’d understand each other, and when it all becomes too much for one to handle, we’d realize there’s two parts to everything. Whatever doesn’t end us just makes us better, more fun and understanding than should be possible.
And someday maybe we’ll see a different calling. If I’m lucky I’ll tour with my band. If all goes well she’ll be studying up in the mountains. But we’ll be okay, and understand what happened. Maybe even keep our friendship alive, if only on the Intensive Care lifeline of a telephone cable, snapping by the least of pressure, but sustaining words that could kill.
And that’s okay, cause I’ll be the guy that will be there for every girl or guy that comes his way. I’ll unconditionally be a friend, in some girls cases’ a lover, and if all goes well it’ll come back my way. And if all doesn’t go well, I’ll continue on hopeless optimism’s wings reconditioning myself to “love again” or “find a reason” to go on forever, the same as the previous day. And then, maybe this cycle will reimburse those days with a brighter light.
Because in the end, each girl that’s taken me by storm is a light. Some are brighter, and some need less electricity. Some burn out, and some fake it till I realize it’s the fixture. And some just shatter into billions of splinters on my floor, awaiting a broom or vacuum to clean up the pieces of our friendship. But maybe someday she’ll be the light to go on when I think of her, and I’ll be her light.
But for now, I’m the boy on the queen sized bed, second floor of the house on the hill in Winston-Salem, “vacationing”, dreaming, thinking of how it always works. And realizing there’s more to this than meets the label of optimism or pessimism. I fall deadpan in the middle, and it’s the most insightful thing to me.
Ready or not. Here I come.