September 2009
3 posts
You kill me, you always know the perfect thing to...
Don't you remember you told me you loved me, baby?
I have hardly slept this week, and it’s never been at night if I have gotten any sleep. I’m not really sure what it is. “Are you sure there’s nothing on your mind?” That’s what he asked. And you know, what does it matter that there is? It’s nothing I plan to change and talking about it would just upset people. This post is not poetic by any means, I just...
I couldn't find my mind tonight.
But I know that I hope that when I die, someone will remember the way I always played the first eight bars of Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major every time I sat down at a piano. At least one person has to have noticed that. I hope someone remembers that I always name a Swedish fish before I eat it, and I feel so wrong if I forget. I hope people remember my nervous breakdowns that would always end...