11/17/07

week 22: scale


i know that these have been late... lately.

sorry. uber-busy life and all that, little time to fit all the work that im doing into 24 hour packets.

this one works for a few prompts ive seen last week.

scale, what's left to say, and a few others.

i was outside the other night thinking about where i am and the events that have led me here.

on a scale of one to ten id say im at a six or seven looking at it from an overall view, a two with finances, and an eleven when it comes to my love life.

i was also thinking about end of my last relationship.

not dwelling, pining for the loss of the girl and wishing i could be with her, but of all the decisions i made because of her, the risks i took because i had planned on being with her, you know, despite shortcomings in the relationship, for forever.

so whats left to say?

with her, it was "im not happy anymore."

and with me it was " i havent really been for awhile now either and while were being brutally honest, youre not all that great in bed."

i know how that makes me sound.

but it was true

and id like to think that this project is nothing if not honest.

and on that note:

brand new - mix tape

I got a twenty-dollar bill that says no one's ever seen you without makeup.
You're always made up.
And I'm sick of your tattoos,
and the way you always criticize the Smiths... and Morrissey.
And I know that you're a sucker for anything acoustic.
But when I say let's keep in touch,
I really mean I wish that you'd grow up.
This is the first song for your mixtape.
It's short just like your temper,
but somewhat golden like the afternoons we used to spend before you got to cool...

I got a twenty-dollar bill that says no one's ever seen you without makeup.
You're always made up.
And I'm sick of your tattoos, and the way you don't appreciate Brand New or me
And I know that you're a sucker for anything acoustic.
But when I say let's keep in touch,
I hope you know I mean I wish that you'd grow up.
This is the first song for your mixtape.
It's short just like your temper,
but somewhat golden like the afternoons we used to spend before you got to cool...

(yeah, but I wish you were my shadow.)
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