God, I got the sudden emo urge to songerize Black by Pearl Jam. What a mistake. I found the cover I used to listen to obsessively too. Don’t judge me, but if you songerize “Black” by “Staind” you’ll get a particularly depressing version as covered by frontman Aaron something-or-another.
I know, I know. It meant something to me in my ~angsty teenage years~. And by that I mean I played it repetitively and did emo things like consider the hopelessness of it all. Ok, I wasn’t that depressing, but I didn’t have too many friends in high school.
I can’t get to sleep; I really feel the need to write poetry but it’s not flowing freely. The subjects are again too close, love, longing, loss, glimpses of those moving on (and though you have too, onwards and upwards, it’s always weird, isn’t it?)
The best thing, I think, is sleep at this point, despite my stomach’s urging for a second helping of dad’s spicy szechuan (sleepily spelled horribly wrong?) noodles.
Six days until I see my boyfriend again, this is the longest we’ve gone (26 days I think at the end of it). It sucks, but so does money. I’ve never wished away a week faster.
