A girl who does not want to answer, "who are you?"
Waking up at the end of the drinking session, hopping on that vernacular, still doubting the self. Still lost in who I am, who we are; getting into situation one would never get in to. Drunk drinking, ******* in the head yet I swear to myself that it would be well without the chemicals, arrived on 2014 doing the first things that I always said I would never do. Yet, as Frank says, "regrets, I have a few, but then again too few to mention."
3 o'clock in the morning, still spitting, always saying, "I don't regret nothing." But, who are we as twenty year olds? What have we done, what have we been through? We still have enough to do more than most that we meet here, now. Still that pretentious *******, still that person with that self-righteousness. Brainfucked. Still in between the past and the future, maybe it is called the moment, who knows? That feeling between leaving and arriving, that rationalization. Still here, haven't made one move, haven't constructed one bridge. Still trying to find that fate, still falling apart in the middle of the night, never getting enough sleep, still thinking about that One.
Never knowing who's behind the head, the jailed joker, the one who makes the jokes yet not knowing why. Why judge people so **** much, why have such strong opinions, why can't we just be? Always meeting people who can calm me down, yet never, never.
Never what one would think, never like that one one would meet at a bus stop, in the bus, smiling at you for no reason. Never being able to meet that person again yet that smile in the memory. And, it will never be You. Constantly jumping, jumping for who knows why when You know that cold lonely cement reeling in, closed-caption goodbye. Back in that purgatory, same place, building bridges to the same exact spot, building fate to that exact same moment of denial, the mind before the rejected kiss. The rejected kiss You are so used to having, the feeling of being on top of that world yet falling from that peak, falling from that canyon, screaming loud as one possibly can. That rejection, that feeling of hitting that ground so hard, the only thing one can do is get up on one's own. Purgatory, stuck in this mess. Stuck. Only wishing You can steal that kiss, maybe for that moment that can take You away from living that moment that You loathe to live, living in the moment only to loathe the future, viewing the future like its hindsight by living in the moment. Falling for that same moment You wish You could grab, hold onto, wishing the subject was You, jumping, falling all on alone. How hopeless romantics fall, living in that disastrous moment, how it should have been, how it should have started, how it should have gone; hopelessy hoping for it, for that one, for that once. How it ends: Who I am? I dont know yet, but probably not who you think I am. But, just like that, didn't know something so beautiful could fly so low, would love to try for a rejection. Please dont. Thank you for the rejection, a chance not to break a heart.
Signed,
soon to forget.
ps. it does ****.
pps. the future *****. 'NO WAY. Future doesn't exist.'