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thoughts from inside

your personal little protagonist.
5 August 1980
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i am young and old. i am leaving my mid-twenties behinds in favor of less destructive pursuits.

i wrote this when i was 23 and i still like it:

this is an entry about nothing. it's about the grime on your teeth that doesn't go away after after you brushed like hell. this is about the bank statement sitting upopened on the coffee table amongst beer cans. it's about the mold growing in the beer. this is about the photo album of your old life hidden among books you've yet to read. it's about the distance between your mind and your heart. it's about the timeline that doesn't connect the two. this is about realizing that your bones and muscles have stretched and grown to their full capacity and there's no where to go but decay.

this is me and that is all.