i smoke. i drink. i binge eat. i starve myself. i skip
class. but most of all, i bandage all of my hurt with meaningless sex.
when really, all i want is the meaning, the feeling.
the wound is almost too big for this quick fix.
and something's gotta give.
crash.
it's the sense of touch. in any real city, you walk, you know? you brush past people, people bump into you. in l.a. nobody touches you. we're always behind this metal and glass. i think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.
grind.
i decided that to ensure my happiness this year, i am going to go see every band that comes around that i like. music makes me feel so i am extra excited to start this new ritual. it begins tonight with down with webster @ live lounge, then... jay-z is on nov. first. metallica & lamb of god on the third. kanye in january. i'm a happy girl.
where loose ends still have uses.
"come on write me a song. give me something to trust. just promise me you won't let it be just the keys that you touch."
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oh no. not again.
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