push

i couldn't tell you what I'm doing here, or why i decided to make this move. being stuck i suppose. feeling out of options. for the sake of spontaneity. for the sake of my own sanity.

how ironic. now my sanity breaches the line of crazy. These flat stretches of Bentleys and Beamers, overdressed old people, and lifeless humid mid afternoons. Iguana's don't even lie lifelessly atop tree branches anymore.

I was cutting onions last night in my dark, empty apartment. Usually its the onion that makes you cry, it must have been the emptiness that finally got to me because i found my self on the floor, back against the ugly particle board cabinets, sobbing my heart out. For someone, anyone, to reach a hand out and tell me this wasn't a mistake. To tell me I'm only human. To tell me this life is meant for things like this. How else will you ever know what you really want out of it unless you have to sit in dark empty kitchens and cry everything you got left onto the hideous linoleum floor.

your that little thing busting your ass up hills, and down stretches on the 101. mastering the technique, of a wave, a race, a fucking sociology class. i wont stop until i get it right. even if that means making my way back to cali.

my hearts still a little broken, my confidence is still a little busted. but I'm still pushing hard.

everything works out in the end, and if it still hasn't worked out, then its not the end.