Come and open up your folding chair next to me
My feet are buried in the sand and there’s a breeze
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes
And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies

Let’s get a silver bullet trailer and have a baby boy
I’ll safety-pin his clothes all cool and you’ll grafitti up his toys
I’ve got a perfect body, though sometimes I forget
I’ve got a perfect body cause my eyelashes catch my sweat
Yes, they do, they do…

Now i’ve been sitting on this abandoned beach for years
Waiting for the salty water to cover up my ears
But every time the tide come in to take me home
I get scared, and I’m sitting here alone
Dreaming of the dolphin song…

Maybe one day you will understand
I don’t want nothing from you but to sweetly hold your hand
Till that day just please don’t be so down
Don’t make frowns, you silly clown

Just come and open up your folding chair next to me
My feet are buried in the sand and there’s a breeze
There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes
And the waves are just a frothier version of the skies

There’s a shadow, you can’t see my eyes…

Regina Spektor- Folding Chair

i hate endings. hate. and even though its the last day of school, nothings really ending. maybe i just hate when i see time moving. and how people are all connected to that time. as much as we try to break the barriers of time, we are connected. and so when i see time moving and breaking and forming- i just can't take it. because i realize how trapped i am. and how trapped everybody else is. and then i realize- im the only one who sees it. and i feel so unbelievably alone. for once, i want to miss it. i don't want to see it happening. i want to be one of those people that are just so happy and excited that they miss the whole: wow, life is moving moment. but that will never be me. i've always got one eye on my life, and one eye on the universe.
sometimes, i swear i can hear people praying.
that was a joke.

im learning to breathe. everyday. to stop worrying. im learning that life is beautiful and that this world is even more so. im learning that love is love and people are people and life is life. im learning that it all doesn't matter as much as i think it does and that everything, everything is absolutely wonderful because everything makes me human. and not some half-human piece of perfection. but a human, with love pumping through my veins and hair sprouting from my head and words melting to the ends of my fingertips. and i can't even believe its taken my this long to breathe. to relax already. but i don't want to waste another minute with tears and sorrow and broken pieces. i want to be human.

so here's the thing: i threatened. i pleaded. i cried. i did everything i possibly could to make things go my way. to stop my heart from breaking and you from defining me. But you keep doing it, over and over. You make or break my day. And I just can't do it anymore. And maybe you're not losing anything by me walking out. Maybe this was your motive all along. Fine. Joke's on me. I failed, I'm losing. But you know what, really, I'm not. You are. Who's going to be there when your world's crashing in? Because before it was me. But you can't ever live up to anything you promise. and thats your problem. because im so done letting you define me. and im so done letting you dictate my life. and i should have been so done so much earlier. you shouldn't have been able to dig so deep into me. but you did. you really did. and maybe thats what you wanted. to dig so deep that there would be no way for me to find the dirt to fill the hole back in. but i swear i will find the dirt. and it will be no thanks to you. i have spent my whole life, well really, maybe only these past few years, so afraid of being alone. but i can be alone. because really, haven't i been all along? hasn't this all just been one big fucking joke? its a sick joke, for sure. because it was my soul, and my heart at risk. you're all taken care of. and you are so, so good at making me feel important when you know your going to lose me. but for once, i want to be important instead of just feel it. and trust me, i know the difference. im smart. how do you think i got you through all those crisis's when she just didn't understand? it wasn't because of luck. its because im smart. i mean for fucks sake, i even gave you advice on how to give her advice. and i bet that worked out perfectly, didn't it? well, of course it did. and now you're all happy and shes all happy and everything is just a big fucking happy fest. so, ok. i get it. but this was the last straw, and you knew it. you knew it. so i'm saying fuck you with a capital f. and maybe, just for kicks, a capital y.
Fuck You.

each moment contains its own complicated theory. i don't trust my own mind, my own perspective. so i assume the perspective of another. decide on what their thinking. because i don't feel i know enough myself. i feel naive. and stupid. and uninteresting. boring. and wrong. thats the most important one- i feel wrong. like my step isn't on beat and my voice is a little flat and the room is a little too hot and my zits are protruding and there's dirt under my nails. so i climb into another skin and see out their perfectly round, greenish-brownish eyeballs and make it up as i go.
its my own little show inside my own little head.
and its all wrong.

everything seems to be about the number on the scale. how much weight i am. how heavy. i never quite understood those people that pushed for so much room, who just make so much room for themselves and complain when they don't get it. i crawl into a little ball and try to take up the least amount of space possible. try to plop myself into a corner of space, an inch, and hope nobody gets annoyed with my presence. but some just think they deserve space for being alive. you do not deserve space. your over-sized body is not the equivalent of respect. i scorn on your extra room you feel you deserve. stop asking, and try to answer.

who are we? we've escaped. i used to have all these feelings and now, I don't. and so what are you? i don't know why i keep trying to make you so important. i dont understand myself. but now that you're not, i just don't know what to do. when i decide something, i mean it.
and i hate that i have to tell you things about me.
you should just know.
and its not because you're a guy or whatever or that people can't "read my mind" because i have met people who just know things about me. who know how i act. who love it. and i should be making them important.
but the thing is, they already are.
so thats why i'm so focused on you.
or maybe, for some reason larger than both of us.
or maybe.