* I like this one. Arguably a poem. It's found in my other blog, "The Strange Endurance."
I'm just getting stranger and stranger. I have to force connection. Maybe I was just nervous but, when I spoke to you on that amazing and subtle night, on the couch, downstairs, below sleeping heads, I forced myself to listen. You had interesting things to say. Honestly, it was one of the best conversations I've had in a long time. We were without intentions, at least, we were silent about it. We talked movies, food, and music. Then Taco bell. Then the cemetery. Then you drove me home. I spend most of my days quiet. My jaw hurt from all of the chatter. It was a fun sting. Thank you for bringing me something real. I've haven't been here lately. Maybe it's the pain of being a man. Maybe it's the struggle of the artist. Maybe it's the insanity kicking in. Whatever it is, you helped me clear my head of nonsense, worry, and doubt. For a few hours, it was just you, me, and words. Text messages can be so lame. Facebook messages can be so dry. And lets not get started about Myspace... You were there with me. Looking in my eyes, listening to what I said. You were interested. I was there too. My eyes danced over you. You were hair, I was hair. We were words and laughter. You could count my yawn three times over and till this day, I'll still say that I wasn't tired.
