Saturday, January 24, 2009

117.

Owen: Bed Abuse

Today, the sunshine will not put a smile on my face.

My heart has always been bigger than my brain. I don't know how my heart has not become steel. Last night, the phrase of the evening seemed to be "You deserve so much more than what you settle for." I'm an idiot, I know this. I'm spontaneous without any thought of what will come.

I have six months left in this city. Can I please enjoy them? Even though I hate the fact that everyone in this city knows everything about everyone, it was nice that people could tell I was upset last night and they knew exactly why.

On a lighter note, Mitch agreed to a "Becca's Legal" party in August. Now that I will be legal, everyone has to motor boat me when they walk in the door. I think everyone else will be far more entertained with this thought than I.

I spend most days in this bed that I abuse, on these pillows that you can’t get used to. I spend entire days putting off that which can't wait until I’m knee deep in my own waste. And I think that I’m justified ‘cause I’ve seen what trying’s done for those who've tried. I spend most days in this bed too small for two, misplacing time like I’ve got it to lose. I spend endless days thinking of all the different ways that we make love and I think that I’m justified ‘cause I’ve seen what living’s done for those alive. I spend entire days in this bed too small for two, on these pillows that you can’t get used to. And that’s why I don’t sleep at night. And that’s why I don’t feel right in this city. It’s more me than you.

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