mattesque's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- my father's name is art and my name is pride i've been listening to slug on repeat. it's still atmosphere i guess but it's just him. a man talking. it ensnares me. walking the streets with his voice. it makes me a little sad. and a little hopefull. a little excited. a little positive. a little of a lot of things. still makes me think of her. not for what he's saying but cause through her i found him. i can still see him on stage busting out to a near empty room. can still see him standing outside buying people hotdogs. smoking a cigerette. and i wish i had words like he does. i realize i'm not supposed to be comfortable. no not comfortable that's not quiet the right word. i'm not supposed to be stable. in my job i mean. i'm not meant to think in years. i'm only supposed to think in months. or so. it's weird but it makes sense in my head. i just know i don't need to worry though. that's what i'm trying to say i guess. no matter how short it ever is it always works it's self out. i dodge bullets at every step. i glide by doom at the last second. i just need to stop worring and go with it. things are changing now. it's no longer a failure at every turn. it's not the bottom dropping out when it's just on an up swing. it's bobbing and weaving and never quiet being hit. i could describe it as a skatepark run but it wouldn't mean anything to any of you. hanging on just at the edge of control but every hit every trick works out. i've realized i just have to relax and go with it. 11:58 pm - 04.16.2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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