uniqueness-template

It is so soon that I am done for, I wonder what I was begun for. — Epitaph, Cheltenham Churchyard

Today I got a Google hit for “people who go to concerts alone”.

Which brings me to a quote from Jerry Maguire that I’ve been thinking about since yesterday:

“Do you want this jacket? I don’t need it because I am cloaked in failure.”

Tonight is the last night I shall be posting from my apartment in Edgewater…

I am going to miss the privacy and freedom I have enjoyed over the past six months… if I had the financial means, I would continue to live here by myself, but alas, that is not in the cards at the moment.

And since I’m thinking about it: Wednesday will be the one-year anniversary of this site. As I look back through the archives, it seems not much has changed. I am still alone, and by tomorrow, I will be 26 years old and still living at home. How pitiful.

At least this bottle of Kirschwasser is kind and doesn’t judge me for the man I am not (nor, in all probability, I ever will be).

Other than me getting a speeding ticket this morning (70mph in a 50mph zone…), this day hasn’t been much worse than any other Monday in recent memory.

As it has been awhile since I’ve posted my own lyrics, I shall treat you with two new song ideas (read: unfinished lyric fragments):

When Temporary Becomes Permanent

I told you I didn’t care–
that this wouldn’t change my life.
And if I keep telling myself that,
perhaps I’ll start to believe it too.

I didn’t ignore you.
I just wasn’t paying attention–
something that is hard to do
when you are always looking down at your shoes.

And just when I think I’ve told you how I feel,
you misunderstand and misconstrue.

And I pretend like I don’t care.
I pray that someday this miscommunication will fix itself on its own.
But when temporary becomes permanent
the blame I alone shall own.

Have the best days past?
And if not, how long will this misery last?
I know better than to ask you–
but in the end, it’s always down to you.

So for now I’ll just be alone.
And when temporary becomes permanent
the blame I alone shall own.

———–

It’s Over

The hours I wasted on you can never come back.
I want them back.

You say you want your CDs?
Take them.
Give back my dignity.

And getting away from here won’t help.
Wherever I go, I can’t get away from myself.

You won’t have too far to go to move on–
you never knew.
Perhaps one day I’ll tell you.

But I don’t think you want to know anyway:
knowledge may be power, but both breed misery.