i wish you were the first so it would all be over now. nothing more to worry about just me, alone in my bed at night but unlike the other nights spent that way i would finally feel okay. finally feel done. done with everything. done with every worry that ever took over me. what do you think of me? am I a good person to you? i ain't waiting for anything all I want to see is you tonight I discovered a shortcut to heaven do you want me to show you? don't worry, I learned long ago to live without it. i can almost say i'm perfectly still within and without you cause being sure of it would be lying but, what difference would it make? lies are getting thrown at me everyday i guess i'm used to it. i'm sorry. the times are hard, and I need a punch i can't say I really ask for much all I wait for is for you to wait for me.

i remember learning how to dive the water was soft and freshening for my skin i was feeling so hot I could've either dried or loose my mind to the lips that were being proposed to me and I didn't know how to take them so I took them in an imprudent way and it left me scars all around my brain scars, scars I never knew would heal and I, I, I never got this told to me i used to think they would bow but I now don't i recall the time i heard Baleen Sample a Magical Mystery Tour in the background and guitars strings were stummed to the sound of the drunken masters making noises with their soul the french dad got out of work earlier that day to see how the strawberry would react but things I recall from these days are fading more and more away as I ache to the sound of the thunder oh, how is the weather? It looked nice today but no matter how sunny the day was no matter how many sunshines penetrated your soul it's still raining in your head recalling the times you were happy when manic depressions weren't an option when people knew how to accept them when people still remembered you at all. i remember learning how to swim my dad never taught me but I learned with hymns songs about the future past that we are living right now living is actually a vague word, knowing you now vow for better days and an actual soul that isn't fucked up by powder from the times you weren't like a ghoul that day I got you apple cider.

why can't we even listen to each other? only for a while? let's just take a small pause.

i talked to Marc today well, not exactly i kind of more heard and listen from him i listened to the problems of an uncle i never had it's weird to hear about someone so important even though you've never seen him my dad found a letter in a box that hadn't been opened since at least 1990 sent by his mom, my grandma from an important time that seemed was cheering eveyone up talking about important people. my dad was in Japan when he got this letter everything was doing great for him he was living with Marc's brother, and they were having fun when they got the letter, they liked to get news for him even if they were kind of bad news. that day, the sun was shining bright my grandma was about 45 when she got a call from Marc she hadn't heard of him in 15 years since he was my dad's friend in elementary school Marc talked about his anxiety problems memory problems and his under-achieving thoughts his selfish mother made him grow up with and he had ''something no doctor could cure'' he said, when he was 10 my dad would give him a broom, tell him to go place it in a corner and then Marc would feel bad, because he would take it out of shame and then immediatly forget about what he had to do, but he'd never tell my dad because he feared he would laugh at him. i think no one really took it that seriously because my grandma was talking about it with a thin weight and my dad kind of forgot about Marc, spending more and more time with his brother instead. as Marc would cry alone in his room at night. Marc put a gun to his head on a dark '94 night. i heard about him a few times but I've never met him. i find it fascinating how I can relate so much with a person who's not there anymore for me to share with, even if I don't really got any of his actual problem. i've never heard anyone take the guilt. i've never heard anyone talking about him without a regret. everyone kind of forgot Marc after his death was it intentional? i left the letter, grasped by an incredible feeling of loneliness. i could feel so much proximity between me and Marc even though he was somewhere else i couldn't understand how people could talk about it in a letter like he was alive a letter from a time Marc was happier healthier or just living Marc felt, lived and loved like everyone did or does. what was his problems? he never even left a note and he never will.

moving through fields of flower moving though kashmir i can hardly say i'm awake anymore even though i wish it was all a dream but in the middle of this train of lost thoughts as i cry of dry tears i make a bitter face and ask the sky can i go home now? The End.