ok, every year just gets harder.

this is not happening.

when his eyes close they burn and water, water and burn.

it just gets harder every year, ok?

year 1, you have some fun

year 2, know what to do

year 3, this is just for me

year 4, it starts to bore

year 5, i'm still alive

year 6, pick up sticks

year 8, lay them straight.

stench of the unused.

and he thought he wanted to live this way. dreams of childhood immortality. wanted to drink from the cup of life. wanted to never die. so long it goes on; it never ends.

further down this tunnel. further away from the light every day. the scary old man at the nursing home. a burnt out dead and salty shell. a memory of life or memory of a movie; it's not clear. all he knows is that he waited to long or he sang the wrong song.

he wound up here.

i'm not here. this is not happening.

never would have thought of the loser in the end, you know? crickets and crickets everywhere, just crickets and stars. stars and cold. cold and humming car stereos far away from here. and a cemetery in the night sky and the wind blows the gate door on its hinges and crickets. don't remember how far I walked. if this were a movie i'd be expecting the cute red-head to bump into me tomorrow and the happy music would play and the discolored t-shirts would look stylish but i'm not here.

ten years later he's still here, still wandering around. nobody has the heart to tell him that the show wasn't that great and that he really shouldn't be so selfish and i'll see you on sunday.

things falling apart; frustration at idealism. not desperate enough to be pragmatic. not hopeless enough to give in. too scared to have lights in the tunnel just keep receding. she would have to be very brave now. he tries to wear bright clothing to reflect some light and the tunnel recedes, recedes. like sinking in the ocean and the sun is a memory. I miss you like the flower misses the sun in the springtime.

how was I to know you were only kidding and it was just a naptime dream waking up with a jerk suddenly in study hall you think you're falling. how was I to know that it was five years earlier and the thousands are still alive, the bird isn't dead, and mister blue sky he is living here today! dance! DANCE DANCE DANCE!!! Yeah! so much crying so exhausted so sweating tired so much bullsh*t  wandering into rooms i've never been in and waving to strangers and they say they wanted a creative type but all they got was a freak.

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