Miscellania

I am always overwhelmed, And I'm going to scare you away one day. I'm sorry I'm so clumsy with my emotions and my actions. You're a solemn soul, a curious creature, a forgiving friend. I hope you see that it's wearing me down as well, and I'm as much at a loss for what to do as you are. I love you, and I know I ask a lot, but I need you, and I know you need me. My whole body hurts with regret. And I don't know which to give up, my life or my habits. I must not be so melodramatic. I must not forget when I see the sunset that tomorrow it will rise again. I must not forget when I see the sunset that tomorrow it will rise again. I must not forget when I see the sunset that tomorrow it will rise again. I must not forget when I see the sunset that tomorrow it will rise again.

Dear friend, Things are shaping up, and it's not because of anything, which is actually a good thing. See, this goodness I'm coming upon right now, has been found. It hasn't just been created; for temporary sanity. xo , M.

I have been woken up. The sweet, crystallized sleepiness has been wiped from my eyes. I will never see this world the same, and I like the changes. I am changing, forever changing. I am human, and I am a mess. Do you remember feeling peaceful? Looking through old family albums, and picnics for no reason? Do you remember being in love? With the way things were, with the people around you? I will not regret, I will not hold the weight of the world, I will not let your mistakes put you down. You deserve a smile, to say the very least. You withhold the beauty, captured in the East. You deserve a fresh page, the chance to start anew. Every end is a beginning, and every thing's for you.

Dear Friend, People have been talking at me a lot lately. And i'm listening, i really am. They make eye contact, and their eyes are marbles. Their mouths move, and the corners of their lips are the arms of great conductors, anything and everything, explained and controlled, beautifully. Flapping these corners, these arms. In a desperate attempt to take flight. These sounds come from their mouths, with the use of tongues and cheeks and chords. Music, is all it really is. Every word has been said before, but they sound different every single time they're said, and they are. so different. Every experience is never the same, always changing, i'm always changing. Hand gestures or not, the body language is there. And i love them, and i love you. And they don't always love me, but that's how its supposed to be, you know? My dad stopped by today, though i was a bit cranky because i was mid-nap. i have good family. I have good friends, I have good peers, they try, and that s...

Dear friend, May 04,2008 I finished a painting today. I don't remember when i started it. It's of the singer of Bright Eyes, Conor Oberst . It's about the music, not about the face. I'm not very good. My mom is really nice, she's just a good person. I hope you have a good relationship with your mom. It's funny how I haven't painted or sketched since at least March, if not earlier. But as soon as i start working on my sketch of Elise, I get an idea for my Oberst painting, and notice how i can fix up my bleu madame. I'm going to get a goldfish soon. I hope all is well with you. I apologize for the last letter, I hope you're still listening. I would like to visit you. I am so young, so young and naive. Open my eyes and let me see the bullet wounds.