i could write about a lot of things like my day or how the pavement looks when it rains slightly.
or how the parking lot feels when it's full of cars and void of people or how i feel when i'm surrounded and afraid.
how i'm angry and insecure and i don't owe anyone anything not my friends not enemies or elders not an apology or a single **** explanation.
but i think i'll just forget about the whole thing and write about death or something nice like that after all it would weight less on me then the words on my fingertips.
i had assumed that i was done struggling with all that identity crap but now i've concluded that everything we ever fight is a battle for our own lives.
and it's odd to think that i can have such a strong sense of myself and yet my personality can be so unlike that self.
there are more layers to a parking lot than what you might first expect.
i suppose at one point there were grass and trees and pure unadulterated dirt and then somebody leveled it maybe added a coating of gravel and paved over it and put some vehicles on top.
but that doesn't mean the layers aren't still there under the asphalt i mean.
and that's what i'm saying is that i've got something under the pavement i just can't get the cars to move out for long enough to tear up the layers.
i feel other people's wheel marks burned into my skin and the signs and lines that proclaim no parking have been vandalized and ignored for too long.
how do you tell a parking lot to stop without looking crazy?
and there lies the exact problem i care too much what people think i look like and i don't mind if they think i'm insane but i mind if they don't like me there's a big difference you know.
and there goes another piece falling into place and the puzzle not yet completed.