sometimes i get the feeling that this place is past its prime. there are no more mysterious lovlies. pre-art school or wannabe amateur god-like women.
its not that no one is trying.
its just that. it feels emptied out. my writing has dried up. last night i watched a few episodes of six feet under. and i remembered what it was like to dream about knowing before jumping.
wanting to be in a movie or show or book or band or song or anything. because its mystique is just enough.
you are so sure of everything that you can position yourself inside of it. and you fall in love with what it is.
my computer broke. i hung out with a cat last night. and i am dead allergic. sometimes i really miss philadelphia. i miss stout city buildings. bikers. late night cigarettes. and walking within a few square blocks to see anyone you remotely love.
im back in new jersey for real. but thats alright for now.