303.

Modest Mouse: Whenever You Breathe Out, I Breathe In

I push you away so that you can realize how you've been treating me. Instead I think you've realized you don't care.

My mind is always somewhere else, usually replaying happy scenes over and over in my head. I've had some very cryptic dreams lately that have made me want to study latent dreaming even more.

I want my life back.

Hey, haven't seen you around in a while. I didn't go to work for a month. I didn't leave my bed for eight days straight. I haven't hung out with anyone 'cause if I did, I'd have nothing to say. I didn't feel angry or depressed. I didn't feel anything at all. I didn't want to go to bed and I didn't want to stay up late. When you're living your life, well, that's the price you pay. Whenever I breathe out, you're breathing it in. Whenever I breathe out, you take it in again. I'm feeling this positive/negative, positive/negative.

302.

Letting you go will be the hardest thing I will have to do in a really long time.

301.

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person who you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it always happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of those lovable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. You will remember having conversations with this person that never actually happened. You will recall sexual trysts with this person that never technically occurred. This is because the individual who embodies your personal definition of love does not really exist. The person is real, and the feelings are real—but you create the context. And context is everything. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.

— Chuck Klosterman ; Killing Yourself to Live

300.

Photograph by Duane Michals

"This photograph is my proof there was that afternoon when things were still good between us, and she embraced me, and we were so happy. It did happen. She did love me. Look see for yourself!"

You're not mine. I have no control over your inhibitions and decisions. This scares me more than when I was your girlfriend. I have never been a jealous girl or one to jump to conclusions. Now I find myself being both on a regular basis. Fix me.

299.

Merchant Ships : Emo Song

I feel like I'm starting to sound like a broken record. I'm the champion of making the same mistakes twice, sometimes more than that. Except right now I don't feel like I'm making mistakes. I feel like I'm living and letting my heart make all the decisions. If loving is living, then I'm living to the fullest, regardless of if that leads me to more weeks of not being able to eat or sleep without night terrors. Everything that was said and done this weekend felt so incredibly right so how can it be so incredibly wrong? It's not. I'm living. Hearing "I love you" at the end of the night and at the beginning of each day is enough for me, even if that means we're still a long way away from making things right again.

We're strangers! We're playing twenty questions, we're fucking, falling in love, we're fucking falling apart. Soon we're just strangers with history. I keep looking at the life around me, it's so full of you and it won't seem to leave me alone. I tried to run away, but you beat me to it. I can't keep pretending that you're still the same, I'm too anxious to exist but I must say, thanks for the last two years, I couldn't of asked for a better time. My only regret is that has to end, tears in my eyes, tears in my mouth. I've cried more than a man should, but I think that it's okay, forever's not something that we will ever have. "Suck it up baby boy." No, I know, I'll be OK, give me a few months to forget your name. I never asked you to leave.

298.

Small Brown Bike : Like a Future With No Friend

I'm not used to being in front of the camera, but lately I've been modeling for my Studio I classmates. Somehow they are making me somewhat photogenic. I suppose that's what a good photographer is supposed to be able to do.

I'm going back to Cincinnati tomorrow night. You haven't been talking to me at all lately. I guess sending this letter is the only thing I can do now.

Remember when you said that things would never change? You liar. Because these days things in my life, they don't stay the same. You changer. Driving (at you). Thinking (of you). Tears scream down my face. Trying (for you). Talking (to you). An incoherent mess. Pulled up to your place with a script fully prepared. I'm acting. You stared with no applause. A broken leg review. I'm failing. (Failing with you) A drawer full of nothing, except old birthdays and business cards. And photos that seem like history. A history worth nothing. Like a future with no friend.

Photographs by Elle Harrer

297.

Paul Baribeau : Last Time

Another weekend in Cincinnati is approaching. Basically every two to three weekends I'm in Cincinnati. It makes shooting easier, but doesn't really help the moving on process. Hopefully I will get out of this funk I am in and will start enjoying life again.

You're here for a reason. You're living and breathing. And if you keep on trying someday you'll find out why. If I love you and miss you because I probably haven't seen you in a long, long time. Just don't let it be the last time you come into my life. Maybe all this rock'n'rollin' adds up to nothing but right now it's the only thing that keeps me going. And this road leads home if I turn the car around but for now I gotta keep on moving. Just don't let it be the last time you come into my life. I could write you a letter but I don't know where to send it. Hope it's better where you're headed than wherever you are. Everywhere I go everyone I know comes with wonder how many more I can fit inside this crowded, crazy heart. Just don't let it be the last time you come into my life.