søndag 1. februar 2009


tommorow i'll wake up with a vocabulary and knowledge of the things that appeal to you, the things that you like, the things that you want me to talk to you about, the things i want to talk to you about as well. still i can never know it by heart. i will always need some kind of script to cheat with, it seems like i can never be what you want me to be. still, i had a dream about you last night, you walked in to the party i was at. i sat there drinking my wine quietly. when i saw you, you did not see me, so i pretended i did not see you either. but i did. and then i woke up, in my friends room, lying on a matress on the floor. warm by the dream of you, cold because i knew it would never come true.

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