I'll follow you into the dark...

Oh, lovely.

My friend is going away. And with her she's taking:

-My sister

-My girlfriend

-My sister's friend

-Her friend (F)

-Her other friend (M2)

My sister is taking with her:

-Her friend (M1)

-Me

-Her other friend (E)

-However many other people follow her out of misery and confusion.

My girlfriend is taking with her:

-Me

-Someone else I don't know

My sister's friend is taking with her:

-Her twin sister

-Her family

Such nice circles, these are.

And for everyone one person that leaves, it's most likely another one follows.

My friend shouldn't have to leave; I love her.

But love isn't enough.

Everyone follows the people they love. Oh, and my sister really does love her...

And I love my girlfriend, and my sister, and my friend, and my sister's friend and....

People are going away, up in the sky.

Falling and slipping and getting bruises they can't even feel anymore.

Oh fun.

Oh, and I'm following everyone I love.

But people die and people hurt and everything's just messed up.

And, falling isn't so bad, I guess.

I'll fall for you.

I'll fall for anyone I love.

In a moment.

I just hope... no one follows me.

stopit...

We're fighting.

We're throwing our arrow "You have to's" in flaming "You promised's". Swinging our "It's the rules" swords at your "Follow the fucking schedule!" shields.

As always, we're fighting.

But we're hiding behind mood charts and eating schedules and quirky smirks. Yeah, we're hiding all right. We're hiding in our rules and regulations, and standards and expectations.

We're lodged between our bitter structure and "Have to's", carefully wrapped up in our blankets of silence and promises that we really fuckedup intend to keep.

But all these intentions go nowhere, because we don't really care.

We're not really fixated on reaching 90.

We're not really caught up in all our work.

We're not really that in love with our music.

We're not really that into video games.

We don't really like bike riding that much.

We don't really care whether or not it all falls apart.

No, but we don't know that.

This is all so important. And, we just can't mess it up.

But what would it matter if everything fell apart, anyway?

You know I'm following our structure and eating charts. You know I'm sticking closely to the lines I need to follow.

Yes, just like I cut up my lifeline.

Just like I trace the lines with blood, so I know where I'm going.

But now I have to worry what you're going to say.

I have to worry if I have to end I can't trust you.

I will, too.

I'll do it.

You know exactly what to say to drive me off the edge.

You say it, and I'm gone.

Gone, dead.... It'll all be over

But don't worry about me. Don't worry about breaking my trust or bringing up things I really don't want to talk about. Don't worry about killing me.

This is all about you, anyway.

All about you, and no one else matters.

No, but that's a lie.

Remember when you fight me? When you're throwing out word-after-word accusations?

Remember that certain words hurt.

You remember that, and we're gold.

We're gold forever.

Nomoreair.

Ah, shit. No.

Ididn'tmeantosaythat. I meant to say that I'm fine and you're fine and WE'RE NOT FIGHTING!

No, we're not fighting and - who the fuck am I kidding?

I just want you to forget I ever said that.

Stop bringing it up.

I am over it, but you're dragging me back through it.

Pleasestop.

It hurts.

It hurts because those are my words to say, and my words to keep.

If I want them, they're mine. Stop taking away absolutely everything.

Tackylovesheralot...

I want to tell you I love you... a lot, but I'm just not sure how to bring it up.

I love you. So much...

Oh, the cravings...

How much I wantwantwant everything that I just. can't. have. And you... oh how Iwant you.

But everything seems to be getting in the way, and I'm confused and backwards and alone.

But I just... can't stop wanting you, and I can't even tell you.

I just- I don't want to hurt you. No, I want to help you. I want to make everything better for you. I want to make everything perfect and happy and soft and bright and wonderful.

Ah, but that can't happen.

No, because I'm a bad person.

You deserve better.
You deserve normal.

Amazing/perfect/beautiful, babe...

Candle wax under my finger nails tells me that there's ways to see when the lights go out.

That, no matter what happens, I shouldn't be afraid, because there's ways around the rules.

But some things still seem dark and stingy. Like there'll always be someone lurking in dark alley ways, watching me. Someone stronger, smarter, and faster than me. Someone obviously less powerless than me.

But every time I remember you, you give me strength, and I forget to worry about people waiting to get me; tohurtme.

I forget about darkness, and silence, and darkthoughts, and people, and words, and sounds, and noise... and everything that scares me. I forget about drowning in mid-air, suspended by my words, falling from the mountain I tried to climb to get fresh air. The mountain I climbed to get away from the fire. The fire that was trying to save me from the darkness, with good intentions... burning me every step I took. Every breath I took.

I forget about all of it, and I only think about you.

When I'm focused enough to get back to the world, to see, and hear, and know and understand... when I'm not too far away from it all, not dreaming... I see you.

When I actually look?

I see you, and I'm not afraid.

Oh, hello there. I believe in love again...

No longer applicable. 

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy...when skies are grey...

Today, it's the way the sun shines off car windows and puddles. The way it sets everything aglow, golden and brisk in that fresh-morning-air.

We don't talk about how lost we are, or how hurt, no. Instead, we just smile and recognize that today could be something. That, whether or not we try, today could actually be a something, in a world of nothings and anythings.

And that thought alone is sending millions of pitter-patter thoughts through people's heads. Millions of pitter-patter thoughts that fall onto paper and into ink. That fly across the computer screen, ready and awake and aware.

And everyone's minds are glowing today.

Glowing, because the sun's finally here again!

And because today?

Today I'm going to smile.

Hm

It's so... far away. So far away from wherever it is I am.

But it's still the same. I mean, they say that. They say nothing's changed. But it's like every second? Every second I'm alone? I'm thinking about everything I could have done differently.

Everything I could have done to fix this.

Either that, or I'm thinking blindly, because none of this is what I know.

I don't understand how any of it works, and maybe that's driving me insane.

Yes, but it's incredible.

Because everything is perfect and normal and okay and... I'm blind.

I can't even see anything anymore. Far away doesn't even begin to cut it.

More like... too far to see.

More like, too far to reach

And here we go again... we're going off the edge.

Where are you?

And it's nice, I think...

The fact is, I'm tired of being quiet, though.

I'm just so damn tired of pretending I'm not even here, that I've actually started talking again. And you know what happened?

Absolutely nothing. People don't pay any more or less attention to me than they used to. But the honest truth is, they've always paid a lot more attention to me than I thought they did.

The honest truth is sometimes people listen.

And maybe... sure, maybe they don't hear me, necessarily, but they're trying. They're listening. It's an effort, and it's more than I've ever done for them.

How do I expect anyone to hear me if I'm not talking?

How do I expect anyone to see me, if I'm spending all my time trying to be invisible?

I really can't blame anyone else for this.

It was my mistake.

My mistrust.

It was just me being a sore loser, because no one liked me.

Only... that's still true, I suppose.

But now I'm talking.

I'm saying small words.

And, la. It's good.

It's great, actually.

It's all right, I mean.

It's... it's how everything is supposed to be. It feels right.

Moderation...

Thinking about... moderation.

Less is more.

They say that, right?

Less is more.

All right. Less. Less makes everything smaller.

And smaller is... good.

Good. Great.

Fine.

But why does it feel terrible?

Silence...

We're pages in books that don't get opened, sitting on shelves that don't get looked at, in libraries where people forget to go.

We're words hidden deeply, submerged in sentences and paragraphs, on those same pages covered in dust.

Although... there is those days when people find us, hidden and dusty, alone. And they glance at us, taking in the picture. And we scream, trying to give them our message, rushing and throwing words out stupidly, because we've been alone for so, so long...

But we scare them off, and they close us.

And they move on.

And we watch, dumbly, as they walk out.

And that's it.

That's enough.

Maybe we don't have anything to say, ever. Maybe it doesn't matter.

Maybe... maybe we'll shut up, and they'll want to know what we've got to say... but TOO BAD! They left. They walked on, leaving us here. They didn't want to hear us.

They never have.

So it's their fault.

And now we're quiet, because we're true to our words.

Silence, for all those who never heard our noise.

So happy/sad/confused...

It's as if we're sitting under a moon-lit sky, full of inky stars and cloudy swirls that we can't really see. As if we're watching everything go by slowly, taking it's time, simply because it can. As if we're just... here for once.

As if that's enough.

But at the same time, it's as if we're watching people die everyday. People we were close to, too. People we loved. As if we're watching them die, slowly, taking their time, simply because they can. And if that's not enough, we have to keep on watching it, everyday. Every second. Every moment.

And our heart won't stop for them.

It can't.

But in reality, we're just here. We don't know where it is, neither one of us. But we know it exists, probably, and that's okay. And we just... stay here, because it's easy and simply and comfortable. Because it doesn't burn as much. Or if it does, we're used to it now. And maybe it hasn't even stopped burning any less, but we've accepted it.

And so we're just... we're just here and we're okay with that.

But that moon-lit sky makes everything more than okay. It makes everything excellent.

And then we're watching it comfortably, excitingly, while our eyes light up from the backs of themselves, by the tiny pin-point stars scattered around the sky precariously.

And we're just like, "Wow."

Wow, because it's absolutely amazing.

And then... then it all falls and we're watching people die. And they're dying, crying for help, and we can't do anything about it. And we're terrified, because we can't fall asleep, and if we could, they're dying faces, all contorted and in pain, would haunt our dreams.

So we have to cover our eyes.

But, our hands! They're just... stuck. We're stuck.

So far apart, so close together.

Talking, but not really talking.

Yeah.

We're smiling, but we're not really smiling.

We don't really mean it.

We can't anymore.

This is what everything does to me...

Try.

Tryandmoveon

Tryandgetoverit.

Trytrytrytrytry..........................Just keep tryyyyyying.

Try.

All right, sure. That's great. That's sooooo simple. I could do that with my eyes closed.

No, that's such a lie. I can't.

Very good. I'll just, keep on trying, keep on going, keep on walking... and then running.

And then sprinting.

But then the effort becomes too much. I'm out of breath. Like everything's gone foggy-brain-dead-splotches-on-my-vision.

And everything's buzzing, shaking, and moving in weird patterns... I'm so lost I can't follow a straight path for very long. It's like... the paths... they're all wriggling, twisting. Every time I try to put my foot forward, forward's suddenly backwards. Or sideways.

Or... it's just everywhere. Everywhere and I-can't-figure-it-out!

I can't.

I really just can't.

Ah, but I don't have to know where I'm going. I don't have to know everything just yet. That's what this time is for. To figure that all out.

Great. Awesome. Fucking-dandy, you know? I'll just figure it all out slowly... but, that doesn't really work, does it? I can't even see where my feet are going, because everything's changing too fast. I can't even see which way I SHOULD be going, how in the nine hells am I supposed to see where anything is? Who anyone is?

I'm just... I'm tired of running and sprinting and falling and getting bruises in places I didn't know could get bruised. I'm just so tired of it all.

I need a break.

But this is supposed to be my break

Shit son.

Just three more months...

Maybemaybemaybe... so many things to consider, but I think this is it...

There are some things in life you know you'll never get fed up with.

Some things like good people, and amazing singing voices.

Like, sun-sets, and sun-rises.

Like eating the cake-mix before you've cooked it, or getting the day off school because of a five minute doctor appointment.

Things like this make everything a little more fresh and warm. Like a nice summer day with a breeze, but the sun still on your skin, heating you up from the inside.

It makes everything warm, and soft, and comfortable, and nice. And calm and perfectandamazing.

Like... like hearing the voice of someone you love when you've had a tough day. Or walking home late at night, exhausted, and passing out on the comfiest and closest thing to you.

Without these moments of life, everything would be cold, cookie-cutter metal lets-make-life-terrible flashflashflash film, where everything's pre-ordered and pre-set.

Where everything's supposed to happen one way, and it will.

Nice, calm, happy moments turn cookie-cutter-metal into plasticine stamps on glow-in-the-dark-paper. They'll always stand out in your memory more, because you enjoyed them, and they'll always feel better when they cross your mind.

And especially when they're happening...

Hm.

I guess, sometimes I forget to think about these moments, about the people who make me smile like an idiot, and I think -for even a moment- that life isn't worth it.

But certain people's smile, and their voice, and their existence is enough to remind me that things can be happy, sometimes.

That things can fit perfectly, and not be altogether right.

Maybe that's love.

Just... the warm feeling where everything isn't perfect, but it is. Where you're talking, but you're not talking. Where you're just... just there, you just exist, and that's all right for once. You're not just there.

You're here.

You exist.

You're alive.

And for once, as much as it did before, that doesn't bother you.