Lee From Fallout

corridors are your friends

2009-03-04T23:28:17Z

Have you ever felt like the past few years of your life has been one long corridor.

A corridor so el(l)egantly decorated with plaques of 'achievments' that line the walls, the carpet so aptly coloured red and a string of doors glowing neon along both sides that appeared wide open. Held open with every desire to entice you inside. Now rather than pause for a second to peek inside one or two, hell, maybe even every single one, you decided to not break the rhythm of your walk that was perfectly in time with the electro pulsating into your ear drums, slamming every single one shut as you kept your eyes focused on the exit at the end.

Where were you going in such a rush?

I want to be a better me for someone better than me...

up(s), down(s), left(outs), right(agains), a(nother), b(roken), c(ase), start(overs)...

2009-01-30T13:43:32Z

Hey kid, why so blue, don’t you believe in yourself like you used to do?

Well yes, but then I also used to believe in dragons and ghosts too (still do).

Another late night spent arching over a keyboard. Clever lines get wasted and that’s not a good sign considering how low your arsenal has looked lately. Scrape the bottom of that barrel though kid, make sure you get a few words that will touch some nerves and make some more tongues loose.

Am I losing my touch or losing the will to stay in touch?

Now sweetie don’t think those comments fell on deaf ears, rather ones that didn’t really care. I’ll give you a reason to wear those sunglasses indoors one day soon. I shine a much bigger spotlight than you ever could and I have a marksman aim headed straight for the insecurity spot you hide.

I think I just found my lottery ticket. No cash prize, it’s bigger than that.

hear ye here ye...

2009-01-23T00:19:28Z

sometimes fires don't go out, even when you've finished playing with them.

even the most fitting of metaphors don't sit well lately.

I breathe in deep before i open the door and walk in. It's one of those parties, sweat dripping from every wall and ceiling and a hundred people trying to catch a high five or an arm around my neck.

"drink?" "no thanks i'm driving" "whaaat?" "nevermind"

The music is so loud it's making me wonder if i should just think out loud. I've always been too afraid of lip readers though. Stepping over couples on the staircases with tongues locked, eyes closed but drinks held steady i'm trying to find her. Fuck, i don't even know if she's here but i have to at least look.

Why is it at times like these you see a million faces you try your best to avoid but you can't find the one you want to stop avoiding?

"drink?" "naa i'm good, i'm driving" "whaaat?" "nothing dude i can't hear you"

i'm walking down a hallway draped with family photos of whoever this guy is who's currently entertaining about half the town with the other half only hearing the bass through the walls and the break ups on the driveway. There she is. Leant against a wall in sunglasses and my hoodie. Zipped all the way up, just how she'd like my mouth.

Before i really know what's happened we're sat on the edge of a bed. Looks like a spare bedroom. Minimilistic and from the light creeping under the door i can make out it's magnolia coloured walls. not that that matters right now. although if i'm being picky i'd have chosen a better soundtrack to be beating down the door.

so here we are. again. as always, talking on the edge of a bed. she's still wearing sunglasses. i'm guessing she's worried the red glow around her eyes would clash terribly with her electric blue tee shirt that she's flaunting after throwing my hoodie back at me.

it's me that should say something, afterall i'm the one who drove out in the pouring rain at 2 in the morning to find her. My good old friend 'honesty' has deserted me, abandoned ship and instead i'm left with mr. sarcastic.

I wish i knew what to say, what tone to use and exactly how to innunciate so perfectly that she'd know exactly what i meant.

this is me. this is me making things worse. again

Carpe Diem...

2009-01-14T17:53:14Z

English lovers under the covers.

I’d like opposite versions, everything, chances hastily accepted, rescued, like other teething troubles, everything, don’t underestimate friends forever.

She crashes, I just wish I was the wall she went into. A second blanket, a pillow away. She’ll never sleep better. Mixed signals from a transmitter that’s supposed to be repeating one thing. Still the only person I’d fall asleep next to and not worry about a blog telling everyone about our pillow talk to impress. You’re gonna see us walking outside a venue with matching sunglasses and jeans.

The stars are diamonds and one day I’m gonna grab one for her finger.

crushing hearts with just one click...

2009-01-13T14:35:01Z

These are the days of our lives and we're spending them asleep dreaming of something better...

Just another boy screaming into microphones and throwing around a guitar that hides his belt that hides the real reason she's been following his band around. She wants body and not soul. A trophy to show all those girls who said she was a no(body).

"look around, these mouths singing back at your aren't hungry for clever lines, they're starving for a touch of your skinnies and a taste of your lips".

I've rode waves so many times before but this time i don't think i'll make it back to shore. Big breath to fill your lungs, make sure they keep you above water until they send out a boat.

Don't fall asleep. Just breathe.

A face so hot it glows, she's dancing on staircases as the radio screams 'you don't know what you've started'.

I have a sleeping sickness without her around.

ad astra ad aspera

2009-01-10T20:21:45Z

I wish I could put everything into one sentence. But I can’t. my life is too many full stops.

Take away the sun because the moonlight is where I shine. Hey kid at least you’re still alive. Moon-bathing on a private planet.

Right now the full moon is lighting up clouds like it’s daytime. This is the time of night where I feel most awake. Where my eyes feel a little wider. I can almost feel the white from it fighting off the cold air that’s battling my cheeks. But all I have are cheap lines on the front lines.

If I had all night to think about it, I don’t think I could describe just how alive I feel right now. I could draft but never script it.

I am everything I want to be. I just don’t do it quite as well as I’d hoped.

Boy you are so out of your depth it’s almost tragic. I always said you had green eyes, how ironic. We’re wasting time with comebacks when an argument worth losing sleep over would be a start.

Promises of a phone call to catch up soon. I won’t hold my breath, the blue of my cheeks wouldn’t match the red outline of my eyes.

Write from the heart boy, write from the heart. Make them swoon make them believe, make them love and then watch her leave.

Dear Mr. Internet just for the record, that boy is doing a lot better now
You know, the one you posted stories and all those rumours about?

...that's the one

We are alive. We are living. We are liars. We are lying.

answers on a postcard...

2009-01-09T17:22:52Z

"hi lee i luvs ur band and ur hot too! do u ever listen to urself on ur ipod?"
-In a word, yes. I'm very proud of what i've done with music and although i don't listen to myself all the time i do occasionally throw it on in the car and get awkward looks from kids and traffic lights.

"i think that your definitley havin what's called an ego problem..."
-It's not a problem if it doesn't bother you though right? Have we ever met? I'm pretty sure if we'd hung out you wouldn't think that. Or maybe you would. Or maybe you just think whatever your friends think. Also it's 'you're' not 'your' in this context.

"when is a new fallout theory album coming?!?!?!!?"
-Soon i promise. We've got plans that will be revealed soon enough. Breathe.

"who is the girl you write about in your blogs and songs?"
-I won't name drop for a few reasons but she's a girl who is no doubt creating another 'me' right now. I'm waiting on his record...

"how do you deal with haters?"
-It's how it was when we started out, more hated us than loved. I'm interested in the lovers. Like my friend Kanye says 'if they hate let em hate and watch the money pile up'.

"what time do you go to bed?"
-There's a secret hour between 2 and 3 that nobody else knows about other than me and a few select friends. That time.

"u and dan scotty look beautiful togetha :)"
-Thanks. He shines, i just reflect.

"lee, i think i've got you figured out"
-Really? How do i book an appointment with you cause i have no idea myself..

"does it scare you to think that people who read your journals and listen to your band care about you as a person not just an artist?"
-Not at all. It's nice to be believed in by anyone.

"do you remember the last show in worcester at the arts workshop years back when you guys headlined. that show was the best show ive been to in my life. what did it mean to you to do that?"
-I remember that show like it was yesterday. Easily one of the best moments of my life (so far). There was something in the air, everyone in town showed up, the place was rammed to the point where i'm pretty sure it was illegal. I've seen photos of us from that show and we looked soaked but every one of us has a huge smile on our face. It meant a hell of a lot to be asked to headline a venue that we'd all gone to see bands at for years growing up. I'd relive that day Bill Murray style for the rest of my life.

"i live about 5 minutes from you and i've heard my fair share of rumours and stuff about you and some of the other guys in the band. does that bother you? p.s i love you and your band soo much, dont ever give up!"
-You yourself should know just how petty some people are in this town. Of course there are always going to be people who talk shit about you. The people i care most about can always spot a liar and know what to believe and what to dismiss. I like to think i'm quite an open and approachable guy. If i talk to girls at a show i'm a 'player', if i ignore them i'm 'arrogant'. It doesn't bother me too much anymore, most of the mouths its coming from haven't sang a song worth hearing anyway.

"what inspires you?"
-My sister. Easily the nicest person on the planet. I'm in alot of debt to the lessons she's taught me.

"do you regret any lyrics you wrote about somebody?"
-Yes.

More soon x

it never snows but it pours...

2009-01-07T15:59:54Z

After giving a heads up yesterday I now realise there are armies of ’coders’ out their waiting on words from my fingertips to filter out onto this page.

There are a few people who have done far less who mock those who have achieved far more than the talent in their own fingertips and tongues could achieve(d)

All your friends are living it up whilst you’re asleep so careful not to wake you. It’s not like they hate you, they just prefer the party when you're not around.

Just don’t forget, gold lined throats don’t rust

P.S This photo sums up my 2008, this dude is my best friend in the world. We're writing a sitcom...

he's back...

2009-01-06T18:44:42Z

I am just a boy.

I am just a boy. Sometimes I am arrogant and sometimes I’ll just listen to you talk for hours and hours without judging or interrupting you. There are days when I can deflect the weight of the world with a shrug of my shoulders or the exhaling of a deep breath. There are days when one sentence can write me off.

My moods change like traffic lights. I am doing good. I am okay. I am out.

I wish my mind wasn’t so easily distracted from the things I should really be focusing on right now.

I found the light at the end of the tunnel was just the TV flickering that I forgot to shut off.

I wish people didn't already have an opinion about me before they've met me.

I find it easier to write than to speak. it’s a bigger burden than I could explain with the best of words.

I am constantly backed into a corner because of my condition.

Yeah a 'condition'. Self-medicated. Self-diagnosed. Self-centred.

Most days all I want to do is unzip my chest and pull out the pages of apologies I never made, wishes I feel I wasted, arguments I should have stayed quiet for, I miss you’s I should have held onto, I love you’s I wish I’d meant. Then I could relieve the feeling of compressed lungs.

I have a back catalogue bigger than your average jazz artist. Mine is a little more improvised.

I’m gonna start posting on here again.

Cue the gossips…

when did this table turn?

2008-01-04T01:42:28Z

right now there is a girl fast asleep who has no idea how sorry I am...

The Luna Sea...

2007-12-09T00:55:51Z

I had this dream last night. So real I almost feel like this is the dream and what went on whilst I was sleeping actually happened.

We took a boat onto the lake near your house at almost midnight. The one we were terrified of after seeing ’what lies beneath’. It was new years eve. 11:59pm. We held champagne glasses topped to the brim and toasted to every fight that shaped the people we became and to every future fight to come. Fireworks exploded as the glasses clinked. My eyes strayed for a second as I polished off the glass and when I looked back to tell you I loved you, you had gone. Just me in the boat and the champagne glass I’d held in my hand had turned to a note. In your best eyeliner it read “wake up sweetie”

The light shimmered from the chrome surrounding the alarm clock you set to wake you for that interview you couldn’t be late for. That big chance to get what you wanted. That was almost 2 years ago now and every morning I wake at that exact time and think about how I wish I’d had an alarm for my big chance, so I wouldn’t have been late. So I wouldn’t have missed out because of the competition. These days even the duvet is enough to hold me down and my eyes hurt like hell at this hour.

Swear its true and I’ll believe you.

If I told you I could bend light and make your grey skies white again would you believe me?

Promises of a phone call to catch up soon. I won’t hold my breath, the blue of my cheeks wouldn’t match the red trim of my eyes.

Baby don’t be so cryptic all the time, say how you feel.

Isn’t this so much more fun though?

Not when you’re still so blue.

Go laugh at the moon, he’s faking it and the sun is hiding more skeletons than the cemetery.

Hello my name is lee and these are my friends ‘flaws’

Chapter 4.1

2007-11-28T22:47:32Z

This is the bed where all of my decisions are made lately. The make(out) or break(out) bed. Lately all of my headaches are coming from my chest. Swallowing chewable “apologies” to get this over faster. I can literally feel my fingertips tingling, her eyes are fronting a ‘do not touch’ sign loud and clear.

I can’t begin to explain just how badly I want to remove every tongue from every mouth that has spouted a rumour about me in the last few months. Believe none of what you hear and half of what you see sweetie. Excuses don’t cut the mustard, this is top flight relationship season and I’m sitting mid-table right about now. Truth is I just don’t care anymore. I honestly don’t have it in me to fight for this.

I tell her how I’m not going to write these stupid journals anymore. The only reason I posted in the past was because I was so sure people had stopped reading them and I had a place to vent discreetly. Everything I have ever penned has only come back to bite me. I have backed myself into every corner. I’m on first name terms with many a brick round these parts. I have been misunderstood more times than I have understood. Honestly I am tired. Really tired. All round.

“I just wish I could bring ‘you’ back”. I can almost taste her tears. I’ve never seen her this way before. We’ve had the best fights, we’ve said the harshest things and yet always kept our cool about it. I tell her that I honestly don’t know who I am anymore. Such a cliché but I’m not here to innovate. Just retaliate. that’s how its been as of late at least.

“I swear to god I’m going to walk out of that door this time and you can just go back to playing away in your stupid fucking band. I know that means so much more than I ever could”

I guess the jokes on me because I got carried away in thinking I could hold onto her without using both hands.

It almost feels alien right now because I’m used to looking out through the curtain during the awkward silences, filled only with the sound of my pulse keeping time in my wrist, but right now it’s 3:30pm and the sky looks bruised. I want so badly to just find that one sentence, that one string of words that can make this alright. Truth is I exhausted my backup a long time ago. Scraping the barrel with “we can work this out”

I’m going to finish this when I can find exactly what it is to say.

alexithymia

2007-10-16T00:02:02Z

i miss myself. fuck all the modesty for two minutes. this isnt who i am. this isnt who i want to be or how i chose to live. these choices have been made by the part of my conscious that is looking out for my safety. however retarded that is. constantly waiting on the next train-wreck.

i have it good. maybe a little too good for my own good. thats what makes this all so tragic. the fact i can't digest any of this. i want to write songs about how she made me feel like i could honestly touch the clouds.

i wish i didnt have the "misery pen" that wont leave my fucking fingers.

I am constantly backed into a corner because of my condition.Yeah a “condition”. self diagnosed. self-destructive. self-medicated. Self centred. no pills can cure this.

treasure map...

2007-10-15T23:52:37Z

It’s almost 1am. He talks to the moon from his pillowcase, aiming his whispered words towards the skylight.

“please tell me how to fix this”.

The moon opens his eyes softly and smiles as if he already knew.

“boy, you have been drowning so long that it’s for sure you cant be saved”

“but all I want is to feel anything. Anything at all, even if it’s only how cold the water is inside my lungs”

“goodnight bright eyes…”

“I’ll give anything, please?…”

The moon closes his eyes and fades darker behind glowing stars. The sky feels darker, colder.

So he lies awake. He’s sorry. So sorry. Still not sure what for though.

He pictures the few sets of eyes that made an impact on his life. The same ones he cut the ties that held the bridge together with. The eyes that he was so scared would reflect back his own flaws that he kept his closed. Once he opened them again he realised they would never see the same.

It’s easy to follow the trail back to where this all started. The day he became so self destructive. The day “he” died and “him” was born.

He is a prime example of the side effects of love.

I.O.U

2007-10-11T17:53:26Z

i'm owed some sleepless nights, some birthday wishes and some tears from the past few years.

it takes one to know one and i'm the biggest liar and fraud you could ever know sweetie.

the butterflies i just ate are making me a little queasy.

out here nobody smiles, nobody talks and you can't look each other in the eye. this is where your true colours run. this is the kind of air that chills your lungs and these are the kind of words that make you wonder why you hadnt said something sooner. tonight we are the walking dead, our breath freezing as it touches the air is the only proof we still house pulses. i am on backup supplies of "awakeness". she is (on) reserve(d).

snow touches our faces. it's silent (hill) out here.

"when do you leave again?"
"saturday...."
"great so i have two more days before you're off again with your stupid fuckin' band"
"....."
"see you have nothing to say to me do you?"
"i guess not.."

then she stares at me for a second, sighs and walks away. as cliche as you can imagine.

stop taking photographs and start talking honey?...

the truth is...

2007-08-27T21:27:16Z

I can’t cry but I‘ve never felt sadder in my life. I laugh but I’m not sure I get the joke. I get angry but just don’t care about what it is that’s making me scream. I try to write from the heart but I feel like I’m scraping the sides of the walls now and I’m not sure how much I have left. I’m scared I won’t ever have anything more to fill it with. The people I’m pushing furthest away are the ones I need around right now. I’m falling in and out of love everyday because I need attention but not the reality of a relationship and the idea of being left again.

I’m telling far too many secrets to my dashboard lately. The roads must have over-heard me talking because they’re gossiping behind my back. Honestly, I’ve seen more night skies than daytime ones lately.

I wish I could put everything into one sentence. But I can’t. my life is too many full stops.

swinging from satellites...

2007-08-23T01:54:08Z

Cutting ties. Telling lies.

So we’re in the middle of nowhere and it’s dark as hell. We have this spot that nobody knows about or could ever find in a million years. It’s “our” spot. You’re totally hidden and you can see the stars perfectly. It’s kinda like your own little place where you’re invisible to the rest of the world. Or at least that’s how it feels. We’re on the backseat. I’m sat tight up against the side of the car next to a speaker that’s playing tracks built for the cool kids stereos.

That sure is a mighty fine story you have their Mr guitar player, a beautiful melody, but how about some fucking relevance? These stories just don’t seem sincere either. Feels like everybody who’s writing heartache are really the ones causing it and yet the real heartbroken are sat in darkened bedrooms late into the night trying to find the right words to explain it. Trust me.

Anyway. She’s lay across the seats with her knees up and her head resting in my lap. Both our eyes are facing up and the stars. Whoever invented the sunroof is a king. My hand rests inside hers. It's silent. This is the part where I’d say something really awesome, like how I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else right now. Except that never happens. I always funnel whatever is going through my head, missing the filter completely.

“you realise that if an asteroid was heading for earth it wouldn’t be like the movies…”

“what do you mean?”

“well, in the movies you always see people stood watching this burning bright light in the sky coming towards them, there’s some slow music playing in the background and the camera pans to two lovers sharing one last kiss”

“yeah?”

“well these things are travelling at like 15 miles a second. That’s hypersonic. Seriously they are glowing like violet hot. It would be a millionth of a second you’d be able to see it for. Plus if you could see it, the heat being generated from it would turn to ash right where you stood.”

“oh”

I know she doesn’t really care but there’s something inside me that hopes deep down she’s as big a geek as me.

Finally it’s started. The meteor shower that happens the same time every year. Visible for like 3 nights but incredible on only one of them. That’s tonight. It kinda stops your heart when you see one. That piece of rock about the size of a grain of sand that looks as if a tear is being made in a black cloth draped in front of a bright light. It’s like 2am and I am so close to falling asleep but I just wanted her to see them.

When she speaks, stars fall from her lips and light up every single word she says.

I fall asleep. Dreams feel more like home. The sky is black here. Not like the city sky coloured by streetlights.

The moon has a big smile and the saddest eyes you‘ve ever seen. He looks nothing like he does in all the books.

He looks tired.

He whispers to me. “boy you’re drowning”. I whisper back “I know, please don’t tell anyone”.

He smiles and closes his eyes.

Out here everyone is talking at me. i can't hear them but i'm lip reading like a champ.

writers blocks..

2007-08-07T17:38:01Z

Breathe in. no, deeper. Deeper. Deeper still. Hold it.

That feeling right now is how the last 2 months has felt for me...

i promise i'll have a long list of random coming your way tomorrow night livejounal people x

i'm a believer, i just need proof...

2007-07-08T00:21:21Z

Red outlines and black umbrellas around my eyelids from staring at screens. I’m still waiting for that box to open up with “hello” but so far the “goodbye” displayed on the stereo as I switch off the power is the only conversation in the room. I’m desperate for something to grab me and make me feel something new.

It’s one big endless summer when all I need is to feel cold right now. I’m burning up inside. I find it’s easier to breathe under the water and the bottom of the ocean is the softest pillow for the heaviest of heads.

So there’s this girl. She’s beautiful. She fits just right when you hold her but you can’t hold her too long otherwise she knows how nervous and ridiculous you are. She’s one of those girls who you find it hard to hold eye contact with because you feel she can read your mind and can tell how there is a war waging inside your head between the “kiss her” and “don’t risk it” armies. I honestly don’t know who I’m backing yet.

I find myself thinking about her all the time. Even the park benches are whispering her name.

I haven’t got many secrets left. Most of mine are written, sung then denied.

Damn kid you really believe in yourself? Yeah well I used to believe in dragons once too.

These little ‘whatever they are’ journal entries keep her filled in with how I’m feeling since I’m always away or just a voice down a phone line from behind white lines on motorways. She says I should write a book. I think it would be too far-fetched and the story line wouldn’t be believable.

I am that daytime TV show that’s so awful it’s almost tragic, yet I’m commissioned without fail and she’s begging to know what happens next.

I am a martyr

I just need a cause

Swoon...

2007-06-26T11:07:51Z

I (don’t) hold up well under pressure. *delete applicable*

Questions as of late. “What gives you butterflies?”

I’d rather be forgotten than remembered for giving up. This has honestly never felt so close. I swear I can almost feel it at my fingertips.

Damn boy you really believe in yourself? Well I used to believe in dragons too.

I’m sore throat singing down the hallways to your door but every line I sing I’ve sang a thousand times before. I peer into your room through the gap in the doorway. You’re asleep or just a good actor.

Writing it down is the best exorcism I know. Sometimes the words come out a little different to how I want them to though. Sometimes they leave room for interpretation and that’s how I end up writing myself into corners. There’s no filter over my mouth and most of the time I’m thinking out loud. Sometimes it gets me in trouble and sometimes I find there are people who can relate. Either way if I couldn’t vent things through my fingertips I’d have cracked up a long time ago.

After the flash of the camera cools off she’ll be long gone. Write from the heart boy, write from the heart.

Not even writers block could touch me right now.

Sending text messages from behind white lines to a girl back home who could well be my saviour. Moving away from her at 80mph to a town that feels a little colder tonight. New songs that are begging to sleep around with peoples ears and mouths for 45 minutes then it’s a break-up and on to the next town.

Its picture perfect. Coffee house, random people crowded around tables with everyone’s conversations slipping inside one hum of noise that almost forms a barrier from anything outside of this room. She’s picking nail varnish off from her index finger. Right next to where we’re sat there is a girl who looks like she’s been crying and a guy who looks like he holds the weight of the world in his backpack that’s tugging at both shoulders. I wonder what’s wrong. Can it be fixed?

My eyes wonder around the room. I can see a middle aged guy picking his nose with such commitment he should be proud. I can see a guy talking on his phone telling his wife that he’s tied up in a meeting whilst a gorgeous blonde smoking a cigarette and blowing smoke in his direction is sitting the other side of the table. She gives his credit card to the waitress and orders another drink. I watch the waitress leave the table and go behind the counter and stop just inside the back kitchen. She probably thinks she’s out of sight of the entire place but I can see clearly as she’s holding her face in her hands, runs her hand through her hair, stares up at the ceiling and sighs. She then turns back around, braces herself and re-enters the restaurant with a beaming smile asking the guy sat nearest her if he’d like more coffee. I can relate perfectly.

Finally she breaks the silence. “how’s tour?” I’m not entirely sure how I’m supposed to answer. “yeah fine thanks” is all I manage to string together. She’s still picking at the bright red varnish that’s not leaving her nail.

My mind goes back to thinking about the guy and girl sat next to us. I want to turn to them and just say “everything will be fine” but I’d be lying. Truth is nothing ever is. What does ‘fine’ even mean? doesn’t it just mean that for the time being you’re willing to settle for it because asking for more might seem greedy? Well then I’m greedy as they come because for once I want everything to be awesome. I won’t brag and I won’t laugh at others who don’t have it, I just want it for a little while. Please?

She looks at me as if she’s waiting for me to say something completely poetic that will make this entire situation make sense in her head. In reality all I want to say is that its more than a little fucked up that she turns up during a snow storm, crawls into my bed, falls asleep and then leaves before I wake up. Not to mention the week long gaps of no contact that follow each encounter.

Fuck this I’m tired. I switch off. She gets mad. She leaves

caila..

2007-05-09T16:02:21Z

i fell into a wishing well and that's what i've been drinking...

the story of a boy and a girl

2007-05-02T10:33:11Z

Once upon a time there lived a boy and a girl. They would spend summers with their backs on the grass lay next to each other. The sunshine of July was never-ending. He was a background boy in a big high school, she was part of the beautiful group of girls that always walked right past him. He always felt like he was the luckiest person on the planet. Part of him was always waiting for her to turn around and say “I found someone else”.

Then one year the boy first went away to tour with his band. The girl was so happy for him, she knew this was all he ever wanted to do with life and finally the dream was leaking into reality.

When he came back they talked and laughed for hours about how bad the shows were. Not many people in the crowd, they drove long drives and he missed her so much.

Every few weeks he was away again. This became being away for longer. Only gradually each time he came home and they talked, he talked about how much better the tours were getting. How people were actually showing up in massive groups and singing back the songs he had written about her. She seemed happy but at the same time she seemed to miss the “I missed you so much” part. Even though he still said it, it felt outweighed by the other things that were putting a smile on his face.

This continued to grow until two years later and she felt he was someone else. He hadn’t changed at all, but I guess her opinion of him had. Suddenly his band were bigger. Suddenly people were interested in them. Suddenly they were taking up most of his time. He felt bad that sometimes she had to take second place because of the band commitments. He told her that he loved her time and time again but she needed to feel number one.

Gradually the dream she was so happy he was living, she grew to despise. She hated that people thought they knew her boyfriend when really they only knew him as “*** **** *******”

Eventually that boy and girl who were so in love and inseperable grew apart. They became bitter towards each other and the dream she was living ended because of his dream.

Remember, winter always follows summer..

love is in the air

2007-04-30T10:36:19Z

and we're taking deep breaths..

hey silly girl i think i got a thing for you...

2007-04-29T18:12:53Z

So we drive. It's getting close to midnight and there's only one place in town I know that's still open to eat.

The car ride is awkward. My right hand on the wheel, my left is restless and doesn't know where to go. I don't think we've made eye contact since I picked her up. She's got hair that looks like she was caught in rain because it's kinked and curled at the ends. She holds her phone which feels like kryptonite to me tonight because I know it's the link between her and him.

The only conversation in the 20 minutes we're in this car is the "hello" that lights up when I turn on the stereo to show her the new album. She knows too well it's going to be full of lines she's either screamed at me or sentences that speak the feelings I could never say out loud to her. She says it's much better than the last.

She says for once I'm writing from the heart. I think she's missing the point. Every line I write is for her. Hoping that she'll maybe understand me at last and maybe that'll explain why I care so much but seem to act so carelessly about things.

The sky looks bruised. The glow from these city lights makes me feel like id rather be safe at home. We park up outside this tiny little fast food place that's beaming out a yellow glow from it's window across the pathway. We order. We sit. We eat. We leave. The only words that leave our lips are bitter and argumentative. I wish for once I'd just say what I meant instead of hiding behind this arrogant cocky prick.

She says to take her home. Probably a good idea cause at the moment I'm running the risk of saying something I do actually mean. the risk is that I know it wont make a blind bit of difference and I'll end up a little more worse off. Right now I'm bang in the middle of 'I don't care'.

I feel like she left breadcrum trails to the door which had him and her making out behind it. I feel like without her my lungs are too small...

..get off the fucking computer and go out and fall in love with someone/something.

lip biting is for lovers...

2007-04-29T18:12:17Z

Chapter 3

So here I am again. The familiar smell of cold sheets and the gentle hum from the TV that's on standby. I think about writing a novel. I could base it around her. I could write a million chapters about the way she can make me feel 10 years old again and in love with the girl in the playground. A bestseller. Critically acclaimed. Truth is I'm tired of writing myself into corners. I'm tired of re-living the things I wanted to forget back when. I'm just tired.

One day she'll wake up to my blue lips with a note on my chest that'll read "I'm sorry you couldn't get past the walls".

The bed feels too big without her tonight. There is no crack in the curtain which is strange because I don't remember closing them. I don't remember drawing them this morning either. I drift in and out of daydream. It's 4:16am and I'm currently lay on a secluded beach somewhere out in the ocean late afternoon with Paris Hilton discussing whether or not they landed on the moon. I have the most expensive pair of chanel sunglasses on and she's wearing one of my favourite tee shirts because she likes the way it smells of me.

4:17am and I'm back to the darkened room and realise the only person lay next to me would cost me a fortune to discuss with my shrink. If I had one that is.

They say that loving someone is watching them die. Or at least I think that's what they say, maybe I heard wrong. In my case it feels a little more like loving someone is watching yourself die. The worst part is she doesn't even know how I feel. It's too easy to play the 'I'm not bothered' game. I'm scared to death that I'm going to wake up one day and realise I've missed my chance to ever get to tell her all those things I wanted to. I wish I could just fall asleep.

All I want to do is call her. Pull my heart out of my chest and push it down the receiver, transmit the contents across the phone line, digitally pulse from the other side and make her understand everything.

I've just realised I've developed a habit of biting my lip. She pointed it out a few nights ago and told me it was a nervous thing. I'll argue it's not, only so we can fight and she'll stay longer.

I remember an old man sat next to me at the train station at almost midnight once a few months back. No-one else around in the entire station. He had the cliché 'wise' eyes and a suit that could probably tell you stories that would keep you glued all night. It was one of those moments where you were sure he was a ghost. He didn't say a word for a good 15 minutes of waiting until eventually he turned to me and said "wouldn't you rather be forgotten that remembered for giving up?" then he got up and left. I remember sitting there and thinking about it. Ever since then it's haunted me every time I go to erase her name from my phonebook.

4:32am. I want to stop every clock on the planet. No scrap that. I want a Bernard's watch. That kids show from a while back. This kid had a pocket watch that could stop time and he'd basically have the planet to himself. Why am I thinking about pic 'n' mix?

Write from the heart boy, right from the fucking heart.