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Or, the longest migraine.

Isn't it amazing how things happen. Things change and remain the same. It's like flipping through a day planner and seeing the same appointment scheduled everyday, at the same time. For years.
You asked for something to move you, for action. Yet, when the pain flashes in your head, you don't want to budge. Everyone is yelling, screaming at you. You can't move. Your feet are attached to the ground, you can only fall down. Do you let it?
The fucking pain. It rips at your eyes and claws at your brow. Wanting to escape. No, you want to release it but it's so much, too much to ever let it go.
How did we all run through people's lives? Don't you remember all the days, nights, mornings spent waiting for some sign, some words, to carry you through the day? And now, what do you have but that pain?
You keep sending postcards... like so much disregarded mail, flyers for sales and stores you never visit. You keep sending them, each time a little more desperate for some response. Anything. Even rejection would be a welcome relief from being ignored. God, just tell me to fuck off. Tell me what to do, where to go. Give me some direction.
You can find me mentioned in this vast space for washed out dreams and technicolor photos. In the strangest of places, you can't even imagine. And always, it's never who you want to remember that remembers you.

That coffee is cold.

11:28 a.m. - 2008-03-04

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