If I don't write it down did I really think it?

I don't recall waking up most days
     But I remember what side you lay your head on the bed
I've forgotten the first day I died inside
     Though I know when you did
I revolve my memories around other people's solar systems
     Where do I lay my dreams and mistakes?
Do you memorize where my constellations are in the night sky?
     Have I known your beauty like you do mine?
Is life a fleeting ecstasy or are we eternal?
     Let the gods bear witness to our seasonal struggle.

And then she spoke, "Don't ever fall for a man who can't love rock and roll. Rock and roll was made from the passion, the pleasure, the peace that exists in people's soul. Someone who decides they don't like rock is someone who's impatient, never looked closely at anything. They don't understand the wonderful agony someone gets from the right guitar solo. That one band that never does you harm, they make love to you through sinful chords and everything seems at peace in the world. A man who can't understand that isn't fit to know the beautiful music a muse like you brings".

My skin burns
The beverage condensates
I am awaiting nothing
Wishing for no one

The grass stands tall
I no longer bow my head
To the sky above
I followed nature and was left
With purposelessness

The joints in my body
Feel young and light
The blood in my veins
Pump through the chambers
In my chest
Over and over and over

I am alive
I sit under the sun
And remember the universe
Inside me
I forget my small existence
I don't care about my small existence
In this galaxy

I experience purposelessness
And become one with nature

My friends race each other to grow up, I wonder what I will remember when I’m old? The hazy nights or the crystal days where we thought we could climb over any mountains, but just jumped off the highest cliff. I'll miss it and another part of me is scared to relive a time where hope only comes on seasonal visits when the weather is the only bright side.

Pockets of air that pop into existence
Nanoseconds turn into centuries
We pop again, alone always, out of reality
The cycle repeats and we turn into particles
That join with the rest of the galaxy