Broken Dreams Blvd.

The road isn't clear. The time is unknown. The space of emptiness I feel has taken not only a place in my heart, but the buildings seem to have absorbed the crushed, burnt, deformed feelings pulsing from what's left of my most vital organ. I walk alone. Now I walk alone. How can I survive when the sun itself has dimmed its sweet warmth? When the flowers and trees don't stand tall on their stems. When the mountains themselves, those peaks of vegetation in the distance, have lost their previous majesty? Dust clouds my vision consistently, a cold gust of wind whispering through the empty sideroads, throwing the reminder that I walk alone full blown into my face. I walk alone. I am alone. Lights, once blinding and powerful, have blurred into obscurity with the salty residue left in front of my eyes. Those traitorous tearstains. And I myself, thinking there is not a possible place to sink, my mind continues to drop, still lower. Gradually deflating from its lack of proper use. Voices. I look up, expecting to find a face to match the familiar tone. Seeing empty space, I realize that I do, indeed, walk alone. Alone. The mists gather in their swirling, menacing tendrils of youthful imagination, the clouds gather into blackened cotton and thunder claps. Lightning strikes. The world brilliantly lit for a millisecond, again draws deeper into itself, leaving me to walk alone in the bitter cold.

Thoughts

I'm thinking about you.
I'm thinking about you like laughs think about oxygen. Like oxygen thinks about lips. LIke lips think about . . . chapstick? I'm thinking about you like brissels think about paint. Like lies think about the truth. Like faith thinks about trust. I'm thinking about you like cowboys think about bridles. Like bridles think about the taut muscles on a horse's back. I'm thinking about you like tires think about sunburnt sidewalks and dried ice cream. Like chlorine thinks about skin. Like tongues think about the smoothness of frozen yogurt. Like chick thinks about flicks. I'm thinking about you like Vitamin D thinks about the peach fuzz on a baby's exposed cheeks. Like fingers think about texture. I'm thinking about you like heads think about the soft down feathers of their pillows after a hard day. Like boxes think about chocolate. Like locks think about keys. I'm thinking about you like the long hand thinks about those sixty minutes it'll take before it can reach the short hand again. Like fire thinks about grease. I'm thinking about you like teeth think about piercing the skin of a firm, refrigerated pear. I'm thinking about you like the sun thinks about the moon. Like firemen hope when they're on a job that they can see their wives again. Like blood thinks about flowing. Like hearts think about breaking. I'm thinking about you. Now, even as I talk, I'm thinking of you.

Eh . . . bleep.

Don't you hate when you say something to someone, but you forgot what you were going to say before, then when they walk away after you finished saying what you didn't want to say and you remember what you wanted to say before? Yeah, so do I. I have absolutely nothing to do but sit and wait for the grass to grow and the snow to melt, so here I am. Speaking to whoever's listening. Even if no one is.
Y'know something? I've started reading Mistborn. I dunno who's read it, but I LOVE it. It's probably . . .  and I never thought I'd say this . . . it's most likely my all time favorite series. I bought the series for my kindle and now I am seriously in love with it! I'm sorry, Austen. I never thought I'd find a better book than Pride and Prejudice, but I was completely wrong.
. . . . . . . Ha. Now I've written a paragraph. About nothing. And, sadly enough, it had nothing to do with anything whatsoever... hmmm. Eh. Well. It's my blog I guess. Haha. While I've got your attention (or not). If you could live forever, what would you want to live so long for? Or, if you could relive any part of your past, what day or week or year or second would you choose to relive? And why?

Rock Out, My Friend. Now.

Rock out like you just got to the end of a book and the ending was so spectacular, you hated it. Rock out like you're with your best buds and you have to have the car back by midnight. Rock out like your feet were made of iron and you had to dance to make them move. Rock out like you got checked out of school for no apparent reason and you have a test next period you didn't study for. Rock out like you just got kissed passionately by a complete stranger. Rock out like the clouds gathered, the raindrops began to fall and your significant other is there to share it with. Rock out like you have one more song to sing and you've got your iPod and your best friend there with you. Rock out like you're walking on the sidewalk, plugged into your earbuds and your favorite song comes on and you don't care what other people think.  Rock out like the boyfriend who left you came back and the first thing he says is, "I love you." Rock out like the walls won't fall but, dammit, you're going to die trying to make them. Rock out like it's the last day of your senior year and you never have to open a textbook again. Rock out like you're an iPod. Rock out like the book you've been spilling sweat and tears for has finally been published. Rock out like somebody's pointing a barrel at your temple saying, "Dance like your life depends on it." because it does. Rock out like you get paid the big bucks to disturb the peace. Rock out like you're the last one with a voice. Rock out like your best friend got accepted to BYU. Rock out like Harry Potter finally has two parts to the movie. Rock out like you have one month to live. Rock out like you just had one of those sweeteningly spiffy lightbulb moments. Rock out like you were just given the keys to a 2005 Crimson Red Corvette and told you to take a drive. Rock out like your long lost family member comes to share the first ride in your new car with you.