boys can be the slime for which we lick off the table. tonight things started flooding from my fingertips like never before. i think things will work out if i don't let too much get me down and i don't worry if this boy likes me or if that was such a brillant thing to say. we are all human. i want to get outta town this weekend. i want to rock out at a show. i want to be away. boston is making me miserable. i hate seeing the same things everyday. i feel like i'm in a rut. i can't even enjoy walking because i know everything so well. i just keep walking in this one big continual circle around boston and i'm really tired of it. i'm hoping for a trip up to boston college. i'm hoping to get my nails dirty. i'm hoping to sweat. bleed. die. not die. wake up and realize that this has all been a dream and i've already gradauted and i'm living alone in a house with 25 cats with the most beautiful guitar music playing in the background. trent reznor is my husband and he stopped dying his hair and it's long and grey and he sings these haunting songs to me. he talks about dying together. i believe every word he says. i cook him eggs. we live in an abandoned shack found in the back alley of a 7-11. no no, we live in michigan in a lake house. we own a boat but we don't like the water. we watch as things get smaller as we discover our boat is just a toy made of paper. it sinks like my life. i wake up this is all a dream. i'm still in school. why? because i never graduate and i'm working at mcdonald's and i start to eat meat all the time and gain 200 lbs and end up on jenny jones with those fat girls that dress too sexy. i start a new strip club for everyone on the show for me. i become rich. then i wake up and realize that i'm a famous poet. that everyone overestimates my talent and that i don't care. i still lines from everyone else but no one reads anymore so no one finds out. i die alone. i wake up and realize that i live with a lawyer. i die alone. i wake up and i have a dog and 2 kids and a white picket fence. i pinch myself and i bleed. none of this is making any sense. i turn the record player down and i hope that when i wake up from this dream that there will be something i recognize. i'm not in hong kong. i'm with my family. they are starting at my casket and my wrists are bleeding. i did it. i accomplished it. NO NO NO...this is not how it should be.

i wake up.

i'm a sophomore at emerson college. i am 21. i have a crush on a blue eyed boy that goes to boston college. i feel unsad and my hands are chapped from the cold. we ride the rails and we go on adventures together. he never tells me he likes me and i think i like it that way. i make him a cd. he likes it. all this over a T token. no way. 
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