Wednesday, January 20, 2010

My heart breaks every time I read someone else's blog.

So, here I am again-

a cigarette in one hand, the other furiously typing away at my keyboard. Sad songs play in the back ground... they're all I can stand at the moment. It scares me- a playlist full of people I'll never meet, and all of them know me better than I know myself. Lately, some of my kids have picked up blogging again and every time I read their posts, I have this unexplainable urge to just start sobbing. I feel like their problems are partially my fault- I can't be there anymore to lend a shoulder to cry on, or to shove them in the car and just drive... and it kills me. So I've made a playlist entitled "blogging/bed time music" in hopes that every time I put my fingers to the keys, or lay myself down to... well, not exactly sleep, I will have them in mind. I've always been empathetic to other people's pain therefore when my friends hurt, my ability to deal with life drops down considerably. And the kicker? I still miss someone... a lot. To make matters somewhat worse, I found a letter I'd written but will never send, and it continues to bring up valid points that make that hole in my chest get a little bit bigger. The up side to all of this? I'm writing my first english paper about my yellow legal pad. For those of you who know what that is- you may now smile to yourself and chuckle and whisper "jesus, I remember that thing." most of you were ghost writers in that legal pad, and rest assured- you will be included in my paper... as will the rest of you, who can clearly picture me sitting at a table in a certain coffee shop, scribbling monologues and feelings that turned into one giant epic story. Call me pathetic, but I truly believe that torn up,stained legal pad is one of my most prized possessions... but only because those who know about it made it so.

The moral of this story: I have an ink-and-paper best friend.

Song of the night: [yeah, this is new and happening every time I blog.]
Hideaway- Karen-O & The Kids.

Until next time, stay classy kids.

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