6:00AM in My Kitchen

I know it's only 6 o' clock, but I can't help from wanting to open my drapes and see if the suns out. It feels like 10am or even 10:45. I've been up since 5am cooking breakfast, not brushing my teeth, and feeling remorseful about everything that has and hasn't happened in my life.

Last night I tried reading this.

I have to ride four blocks, but before I go I still have to brush these coffee teeth.

Fridays In the Bathroom

My head is killing me, my girlfriend of three years left and went to Tennessee; Saturday will be better. It always is. I just have to keep my mind on the unimportant things like small amounts of drugs, bicycles, and oysters.

I think I made the coffee too strong and I have to grab a train.

When Will We Learn to Be Better

When will we learn to treat each other better? Things seem so final, because they are.

Do you remember my first apartment? The terrible bed I made all by myself. I was proud of that bed and my quiet life. Then I met you, and things got better. Then got worse, then they got better again.

We decided to rent a small one bedroom and one night while we were getting high in our new place, we put up paint tiles as decoration in our kitchen and over our bed. We were really happy then. It was brief, but we were happy.

I'm sorry that I didn't love you correctly. I abused our love and forgot about all of the little memories we shared; skipping class to have sex and cook dinner, medium rare pancakes. My crazy roommate.

I'm going to miss you so much. I wish I could be there when you finally realize what it is you're looking for out of life. I would say that we could be friends, but we know how that goes.

Good luck in Tennessee.

I love you.

P.S. I'm sorry this is so sad.

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Broken Windows

I am appreciative that you have semi-nice teeth. They do not belong to me anymore, but that does not mean that I cannot marvel at them. While we're on the subject, I'm also very appreciative that you have semi-nice skin too.

I remember once someone said that you looked like a Russian doll made of porcelain; I agree, but I am not a fan of porcelain. It cracks far too easy and I couldn't imagine falling in love with a face that needed to be handled with such delicate care.

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I'm going to be taking a break for a little while to work on other projects. Thanks for reading.

I'm Not an Idiot, I Just Know How to Spell.

I wonder if sleepwalking makes sleeping with someone justifiable in the same way that the right mixture of alcohol, dim lighting, and lonely people do? But then you'd have to explain why you started the car, took money out of the atm, walked into the bar and began flirting.

(As a general rule of thumb, you only flirt with the ones that will most definitely sleep with you. )

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