RE: Music For Airports

I built a jet
in an attempt to get us off this island.
In hopes we finally find something.
Though, it's funny.
I've never been got at looking for much.
Dwindling too long to notice another.
But, I hope you've better luck than me.
And, in the same instance, I'm too proud to truly wish you anything.

Evan's Jazzy Ending

In the least poetically and pathetic way,
I'm starting to enjoy myself again.
I've been walking enough to make myself feel good about my health.
I've been working enough to be proud of myself.
I've been making things while being eaten alive by summer bugs.
I've just been happy.

Don't Tell Me How To Do Things, I'm Trying To Figure It All Out On My Own.

I wish I knew how to make a good song.
Something to sing to every now and then.
A sort of message to remind me where I'm trying to get.
I can't really venture that far out of the C scale.
I wish I lived near a lake and had a boat.
I wish I could captain the ship, even if I take it out alone.
I wish I could go back upstate. I think I really need it.
I'm not that sad anymore, I'm doing better I'm sure of it.
I should go somewhere this summer. I just want woods.
I want to be able to walk knowing I'll get lost and figure out how to get out.
Pretty metaphoric without any sort of deep meaning behind it.
I hope people don't misconstrue everything I'm saying here.
It's all pretty straight forward.
I wanted to write a bunch of stuff on my own, then show people.
I can't really do that here. I always just write here.
It's nice that everything's sorted out, but I'd rather have my notebooks again.
I think if I sang well, I'd have done a show by now.

Life.

I like the phrase "what has been seen can't be un-seen".
It leaves me with some relief. Everything's real, even when it's not.
This whole year has been a bunch that I can't un-see,
from the church to the stormy weather, it's all happened.
Even if it didn't.

I spent the last three weeks on my own.
I figured out I could take care of myself when I have to.
I can do a lot of things,
I've just yet to see it.
Even if it doesn't happen.
I could have taken photos, though.

I should've went to the city at least once.
I think if I did, I should've went on my own for whatever reason.

Everything Happens Here.

After a rather uneventful evening, I decided to call it a night.
I got in my car, turned on the heat, and without thinking, I put on my favorite song as of late.
The Birth And Death of a Day by Explosions in the Sky.
Perfect.
There is no word to describe to what happened to me.
It all forced everything down my throat.
It pulled everything from the back of my mind to front and center.
I had to pullover.
Coincidentally, I pulled over where everything I had done in life mattered.
It was the first place that after staying out past curfew, I sat and a girl fell asleep in my lap only to wake up to kiss me.
It was where I used to tell my parents I'd be if I wanted to go out walking.
It was where I decided who I'd become.
It was where I decided I would end my friendship with more than 7 people.
It was where I watched a thunderstorm with no rain with a girl who tries to keep in touch every now and then.
It was just where.

I realized how big the universe is.
I realized how much it encompasses.
I realized how I'd never see a quarter of anything it had to offer.
I even realized how I haven't even left the country.

It's kind of weird, you know?
How big the Earth is, but once you measure it against the universe it becomes nothing.
The place we're born into. The place we're buried in.
Everything.
Everything happens here.

These Quiet Nights With You.

It happened the night of graduation.
I had went out to eat with family, then I went to a party.
I told myself it was now or never.
I walked away from the crowd, sat on the curb, and called her.
She didn't say anything at first other than "Hi, we just got back from grocery shopping."
I almost couldn't say it, despite the fact she knew something was going to happen (and not for the better).
I think one of the reasons that lead me to do it was a fear of me being the one left.
It's typically how it goes for me. I don't mean to sound like a sob story, but I never seem to notice anythings wrong until after it's all done and I evaluate what happened.

I had to walk home after the party.
It was about 1 in the morning and I passed my friend's house on the walk.
I called him as I kept walking and told him what happened.
I told him I did it but it didn't feel better. If anything, it felt worse.
He's still my friend. He's got his own problems to work out, but he's still my friend.

I remember running every few minutes down the blocks for whatever reason.
I wasn't drunk and I wasn't high, though I'm sure (in my efforts) a person might assume I was.

I had debating ending the relationship for a while, but I think that was a mistake.
And though people tried to make me feel better about the decision, I don't think they understand the kind of relationship I had with her. Isn't that important to know before giving feedback? But that's just friends being friends.
I think if anything, we evened each other out.
Isn't that what a relationship should do? Make both people involved calm and collected and share the same feelings for a good portion of the time.
But I guess towards the end, if I wasn't the one to leave, she'd have been the one to leave me cause I was starting to take on a new persona, the one I have now.

Where I Show You In Words What I Cannot Display.

She looks great, by the way.
It clearly hit her from the start of the year, but I think she's feeling better now.
She wore a bow in her hair at the show and it kind of reminded me of the feeling I got
when she wore an outfit that I liked that she owned.
She didn't know that I had any particular favorites. I didn't want her to think that I wanted her to wear those outfits every time we were together.
I still have everything she ever gave me. I could never bring myself to get rid of it.
I only got rid of a picture of her I had when a girl came over.
The girl sitting on my bed asked what it was and I shrugged it off as I pulled it from the wall all the while knowing I'd regret it later after she left.
I didn't do anything with that girl that night. We held hands and sat against our friend's car. It didn't feel right.
Have you ever held hands with a person and it didn't feel right? Pull away if it doesn't.
I think everything I did before the summer had a lot to do with who I was with.
But I don't want it to sound like it's not my fault, because it is. The blame falls squarely on my shoulders.
Even in the summer I think I thought I was happy.
I can only describe it as getting hit so hard and quickly that the shock of the blow hinders any pain that one might feel. It just took a while to sink in.

I Don't Know If That Makes Me Happy Or Sad.

It's kind of funny how sure I was.
It had been months and we'd spoken here and there, just keeping up with each other.
Did I notice any sort of change on her part? Kind of, but not enough for me to really pick up on the trouble.
She's done. She doesn't like to think about me anymore. She doesn't want to talk to me if it's just shooting the breeze.
She wants there to be a reason for us to talk.
But isn't me just wanting to talk enough of a reason?
All the things that go into making a conversation (worthwhile or not).
I didn't know any of this until I saw her recently.
I was even too shy to say hi. Isn't that weird?
You know a person inside and out.
Secrets, things that make her laugh, things that make her annoyed, things that make her cry, etc.
I was put to the list of things she needs space from.
I was struck at the dichotomy of who I'd been to who I am now.
I started analyzing why I haven't been happy.
It boiled down to her, essentially.
With everything I've seen since then, ripping at my skin like a bird trying to perch on a twig.
The strange truth is she's always been right.
It seems to be a tendency of mine to ignore anything that is logical when I'm in a moment, for however long that moment lasts.
Would I be happier if I was with her still?
I haven't really noticed anyone worth while all year since we stopped talking.
I know I will, cause that's just life but, is it so out of the ordinary that I'm convinced she's the most perfect person for me?
She's the last one I was with, that counts for something.
I don't know if that makes me happy or sad.

When You've Lost All Your Looks

That table seemed to shrink
with each passing word
that fell on our plates and became our dinner.
You called it "soul food" or something to that effect.
But I'm told it's everything I man should want
and the scene is perfect for what we have,
but I'm content with not moving.

Vacation

I could be with anyone
and that's just something I say now
as I meet each window
talking about the ocean.
"It's freezing there! It's a waste of time! It's gorgeous, though."

Apology.

For every second
the thought of there being something wrong with you
could make me cringe.
I know whats what.
I know what I did.
I know how it ought to have been.

Had I seen too much of myself?
I suppose one could say that out loud,
if they so desired.

I'm Half The Person I Ought To Be

I think I just really miss everyone.

o

I bet you're waiting for the train
to come and pick you up.
Forget about everything,
have a few hours to yourself.

But if we'd stop twisting street signs,
stop worrying bout wasting our time
we could make a whole day out of this.
Yeah I know, we could make a whole day outta this.

With each class the day drags on
and you're victim to its toll.
But come here comes summer on it's way
to finally set you free,
to let you see all you've missed.

But if we'd stop twisting street signs,
stop worrying bout wasting our time
we could make a whole day out of this.
Yeah I know, we could make a whole day outta this.

And we're all bound for the beach today
cause tomorrow it's gonna rain,
and that's the day I wanna tell you you're going to make it out ok.

Yulan.

I'd rather it be a march then a walk
to the place where we would go
with the coming and going of each season.
I'd like nothing more than to get in my car
and finally set course.
Invade and impose.

I'd rather you admit it to it
and meet me half way
but how could I expect anything anymore
and how could I expect you to be anything less of predictable.

The Poet's House.

I hope
where ever I decide to go
is the place where I'll eventually decompose.
I hope it becomes something special to your kids
as they age.
I hope they bring their cigarettes here and loose women.
I hope they never think twice about what it is they do.
I hope you never find them here.
I attest, the creaking of my porch already
and that it'll prove how worthwhile a person ought to be
if they make themselves comfortable on it
after I had spent many evenings hoping and hoping
I'd make something worthwhile here.

I'm Quitting New York

I wish you wished nothing more
and that this thing we seem to "know" could make up its mind.
Cold feet and tired toes,
I'll keep my mouth closed shut
while I venture to some part of the south,
almost out of whatever boundaries have been made.
I think I'd walk around.

Midnight on a Row.

It's an ocean we're in,
though it seems that of a lake,
I beat against each wave, hoping.
Tied the anchor, though it rusted.
Met each rope, following a persistent knot.

But I kept it,
at each passing tide
to prove a point.
Couldn't put it to proper use,
after I cut it all up.

I could've grazed shore lines,
pressing my oar at the sides of rocks
keeping them,
on their toes,
so it goes.

The battle we swung on,
headfirst and sung it down.
I made it for you to keep.