5:52 p.m.	gold soundz	2003-12-02
Reaped	i am so pissed. it's not pms, it's ms. today has been a slow sick sucking day. & i'm not just saying that b/c i'm listening to crooked rain crooked rain at the moment. crab found the blog. he wasn't too mad. more confused that i could say such things & post them on the internet but not say them to him. that i was plotting my move out last February but didn't mention it til the month before the lease went up was irksome. but we see we're still here. but now i can't confess the deep dark secrets. or i can with the caveat i'll be discussing them in longer, more torturous ways later. fuck. why am i on the computer after 5 hours on the reference desk anyway? so i sent cabbie an email today. not a fuck you email, let's just call it, "regret" Hey Cabbie I had a nice time last night. However, I don't think it is in my best interests to see you anymore. You are very bad for me, precisely because we get along so well & I have this propensity for coming back even when half of me is screaming 'what the fuck, he's a fabricator & controller with more ulterior motives than you can even dream up & HE ALREADY FUCKED W/ YOUR HEAD ENOUGH THE FIRST TIME'. This is not some implant by outside forces, no gun is held to my head, this is just common sense beating back my Id. But hey, at least I got a cd out of it." & i did. The twilight singers' first album. appropriate. & more than i got the first time. so he calls later, not after a curt & brief email pointing out how passive aggressive i am, but could we chat after work? but it's only another reiteration of the same tired ordeal. "You're bad for me. i don't want to talk to you." "But we're shopping at saks tomorrow, right?" Riiiight. then my phone ran out of juice & kept beeping over every other word he said, so instead of some poignant adieu it was more of a BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPbuhbye. And that's all fine & good. b/c he is bad for me. Or else i wouldn't be feeling like shit right now. But again, maybe its just the [p]ms. or the pavement. Go back to those gold soundz And keep my advent to your self Because it�s nothing I don�t like Is it a crisis or a boring change? When it�s central, so essential, It has a nice ring when you laugh At the low life opinions And they�re coming to the chorus now... I keep your address to myself �cause we need secrets We need secrets crets crets crets crets crets back right now Because I never wanna make you feel That you�re social Never ignorant soul Believe in what you wanna do And do you think that is a major flaw When they rise up in the falling rain And if you stay around with your knuckles ground down The trial�s over, weapon�s found Keep my address to myself because it�s secret Cuz it�s secret cret cret cret... back right now So drunk in the august sun And you�re the kind of girl I like Because you�re empty and I�m empty And you can never quarantine the past Did you remember in december That I won�t eat you when I�m gone And if I go there, I won�t stay there Because I�m sitting here too long I�ve been sitting here too long And I�ve been wasted Advocating that word for the last word Last words come up all you�ve got to waste	Sown
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