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Words. Bright Eyes. Miles Davis. Hearts of Space. Audrey Hepburn. Hand picked Dave vinyl. Taking photos. Clothes. Lady GaGa. Playing pretend. Rockin' The Casbah. Decorating. Change. Ideas. Procrastination. Yoga pants. Nail polish. Glitter. Eating waffles. Sam Adams. Snoopy.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

Guilt.

I know that the world would be given to me if I asked for it, sometimes I don't give him enough credit. The shock when I look into his eyes, as I whisper words of a vague future. For the first time I know just how deep the sadness goes. Something is turning knots in the pit of my stomach, something aches at the sound of a name. Love has no real definition, a word that fits with peace and harmony in a sentence. If that is so true, than love should come with no pain. Decisions, decisions, I always make the worst of them. To love? I chose lust, it comes without a commitment. Or does it?
What would have been if these twist and turns would have been recognized sooner? I will only ever wonder, I will never ever see. Once again, everything is hazy. What's even worse, is the guilt I feel when I want the haze to drift away, to another town, another state.
Confusion infests itself inside of my head yet again.

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