Legendary

The words are carrying me far far away.. Past the streets of the towns that embody my failures and countless mistakes. I can see them all flying away now with every turning page. The characters are leaping off the page and dancing into my body. They're snaking through my bloodstream and filling the void in my heart that has been present since I can remember. I want to be those characters. I want to be wonderfully daring and adventurous and wanted. I want to be sought after, craved even. I want someone to not be able to bear the thought of me disappearing. Because one day I will disappear.. And if no one is there to remember you, who's to say you were even alive? Who's to say it wasn't  all a 100 year old nightmare? What's the point of living, if there is no legacy to be left? I want to be a character in a book, because no matter what, their legacy lives on. It is documented, set in stone, and undebatable. I want my presence in this world to be remembered and cherished. And better yet, I want to be so legendary in this world that no one would dare forget my name. 

Songs of Nostalgia

As I'm hearing the noises of your guitar drown out my sorrows, a wave a childhood nostalgia overwhelms me. It's all coming back, and I just want you to keep playing and playing so that the memories will continue to play like my old favorite song. The waves are coming, overwhelming me, and I feel as if I'm drowning, yet this time in serenity and I don't want it to stop. I remember long drives to kindergarten that were filled to the brim with math problems invisibly drawn on the back of your seat with my itty bitty finger. I remember gas station stops for the yellow Gatorade because it was our favorite. I remember the countless days  I made you late for work because I wanted one more push on the swingset or one more boat to be drawn, and then later colored by me. I remember yelling that yellow meant slow down every time you sped through a light to get me to school on time. I remember tinker bell dresses, and running through the sprinklers with you on the morning of the first day of school. I remember moms scowl as she found us sopping wet in the front lawn, and your half smile and shrug. But above all, I distinctly remember the idolization I felt towards you at such an early age, and it's bewildering, yet not,  that although it seems that everything is different, that is the one thing that has, and always will remain the same.

Misguided dreams

Dreams are a perpetually complex topic. From the day you are born, your parents express their expectations for you, and society expresses their expectations for you, and you choose friends who reflect your parents expectations that soon start to become your expectations. You become accustomed to these expectations and they soon start to dictate your life. They become your own expecations. And these expectations morph into your life dreams. And then you're starting to picture your life when you're all grown up and you picture the hopes and dreams that your parents were unable to achieve. They are not your hopes. They are not your expectations. And they are most certainly not your dreams. They are your parents unfulfilled desires. They are what they wished they would've accomplished at your age, but failed. They cope with their failures by watching you exceed at what they were unable to. So the real question is, how are you expected to carve your own path, when it is completely covered in the overgrown vegetation and debris of your parents failures? Whack them away, that's how. Start afresh. Go to some deserted island and find yourself, because happiness is not achieved by making your parents proud, but instead making yourself proud of the person you've become. 

Road to liberation

Drive. Drive all your worries back to the deep depths of the ocean. Drive all your insecurities into a grave never to be dug up again. Drive all your jealousies into the cave full of hungry lions and watch as they are eaten alive. Drive until all seems right in the world. Drive until your thoughts are clear as a Colorado stream or drive until your thoughts are murkier than a Florida swamp. Drive until the endless blue skies are swallowed by a fury of orange fire. Drive until that orange fire is engulfed by an endless night. Drive and drive and drive. Drive your life away if you please because even if you're driving in circles, it's sure as hell better than sitting still. 

Gone

Stupid girl. You think by deserting your morals you will be accepted. You think that by engaging in haunting past times you will achieve happiness. You think that by gaining acceptance you will also gain a feeling of accomplishment. Stupid girl. Your new life is leaving you numb to the people around you. You have surrounded yourself with people who pretend to care, yet have lead you to a barren wasteland that you consider your life. Stupid girl. You think that's happiness? You've slipped through a black tube away from the light that blinded you, and fled to an eternal darkness that covers all your woes. There's no rescuing you now. You're too far gone. And it's just too bad that by the time you've got it all figured out, I'll be gone.