weeks 22 - 23: influence - disguise

I know that I say this a lot, especially over the last year or so, but I do apologize for the lack of consistent updates.

I remember when I first started this project that I would post, at times several entries a week.

Its just that lately that I have been less than inspired to do anything other than read and watch tv while dealing with the thing that is what my life has become…

In a word, boring.

so i decided to cheat a bit and make this post count for two.

That said:

i made a mistake the other night, in that i looked at my senior yearbook.

it took me back to who i was then, and the comments reminded me of things about myself that i had forgotten.

my junior and senior years were apparently marked by my attempt at breaking out of the "gap" image that my mom tried (and still to this day) to endear (read: impose upon) me.

so i started to buy second hand clothes, boots, eyeliner... etc.

it wasnt goth, it wasnt industrial, they called it alterna-goth, i realized some years later that it was eventually dubbed emo.

somehow i fell into the "indy" dress code in college, not for any measure of effort but, more that i had a cool girlfriend at the time and was living in san francisco.

and as i thought about it, i began to wonder who was the real me?

am i just some guy that dresses the part?

and then it makes me think about all those women i fell in love for/over these past years.

many were just variations of a theme

and that, i guess is my fault.

there must be something so self destructive in me that i seem to seek out the same things in the
women that i end up with, no matter how well they disguise their damage.

and I know that even though the others aren’t her, they are variations on a theme.

It all becomes a matter of not seeing through the disguise presented.

Still, I cant help but to miss her, even though I know that the her no longer exisits.

pulp - just like a friend

Don't bother saying you're sorry
Why don't you come in
Smoke all my cigarettes again

Every time I get no further
How long has it been?
Come on in now, wipe your feet on my dreams

You take up my time
Like some cheap magazine
When I could have been learning something
Oh well, you know what I mean,

I've done this before
And I will do it again
Come on and kill me baby
While you smile like a friend
Oh and I'll come running

Just to do it again
You are the last drink I never should have drunk
You are the body hidden in the trunk
You are the habit I can't seem to kick
You are my secrets on the front page every week
You are the car I never should have bought
You are the dream I never should have caught
You are the cut that makes me hide my face
You are the party that makes me feel my age
Like a car crash I can see but I just can't avoid
Like a plane I've been told I never should board
Like a film that's so bad but I've got to stay till the end
Let me tell you now: it's lucky for you that we're friends.

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