twas a saturday i believe...but it was still friday somewhere

catefrances

morning comes and i touch down in the city of my birth. i have never felt such a loss as i do now. something is missing. someone is not here. and they should be. i should not be alone on this first day of autumn. i should never be alone again, but i am. when i left i said i was just going on a holiday. to cope with the separation this is what i told myself. and this is what i told him. i have distractions, but i must find more. i need to fill the days and hours and minutes with bullshit and other stuff so that his absence is negligible. what an absolute horseshit thing to have to do.

catefrances

you know that feeling when you breath and tis as if a knife has stabbed you in the chest? when everything you thought was nothing that could ever be true. i had that thought tonight. ive been so lost and i needed to find myself... somehow. words tonight i spoke that not necessarily wanting to be heard had to be spoken. they had to be heard. i'm just so tired and the weight was drownign me. dragging me down to somewhere i thought i'd never be again. somewhere where no one should ever be. words failed me and i sense that i am alone. or maybe ive been alone for longer than i'm willing to admit. i don't know. i don't want to know. so i guess now tis out of my hands. maybe it always has been and ive been too stubborn and delusional to admit it. im not one to lean on people or to even want them in my life, but when i do holy hell tis just the strongest feeling i have and the most vulnerable. i have to learn a whole new way of thinking. but i am willing to do it. and sometimes the price i pay is more than i can bare. cause sometimes wanting and loving just aren't enough.

catefrances

the sound of mogwai's auto pilot fills the room. as it reaches its crescendo so does she. and then when it ends, it just ends and it is over. for her it has always been over. it just took her longer to acknowledge it. she closes her eyes and savours this moment. so long she has been able to delay this moment and now that she is here it feels like the most natural thing on the world. so many things go through her head. how the indie record store doesnt have season 2 of the wire bit has seasons 1,3 & 4. and how this absence prevents her from buying the other seasons. how just up the street, pentimento has that book on brooklyn architecture and she must have it. all those pretty notebooks with their blank pages waiting to be filled. how when she walks into the bookstore a whole other world presents itself. and in all these stores she thinks of him. she always thinks of him. she tries not to, cause she doesnt want to seem weird for doing so. but every step she takes she imagines him beside her. and every time it takes a little away from her self. she doesn't want to do it without him, but she knows she must. she said to herself there would be no sacrifice but she knew that if she were with him the only thing she could become intoxicated on is him. and she was okay with that. more than okay in fact. it was a choice she would make without hesitation. but now it no longer mattered. as she walks back to her car, over the railway lines, and apstempty warehouses, she listens to the click of her bootheels against the footpath and she feels the air around her embrace her. she loves this temporary feeling of aloneness. but she doesnt like to be alone.

catefrances

the sound of mogwai's auto rock fills the room. as it reaches its crescendo so does she. and then when it ends, it just ends and it is over. for her it has always been over. it just took her longer to acknowledge it. she closes her eyes and savours this moment. so long she has been able to delay this moment and now that she is here it feels like the most natural thing on the world. so many things go through her head. how the indie record store doesnt have season 2 of the wire bit has seasons 1,3 & 4. and how this absence prevents her from buying the other seasons. how just up the street, pentimento has that book on brooklyn architecture and she must have it. all those pretty notebooks with their blank pages waiting to be filled. how when she walks into the bookstore a whole other world presents itself. and in all these stores she thinks of him. she always thinks of him. she tries not to, cause she doesnt want to seem weird for doing so. but every step she takes she imagines him beside her. and every time it takes a little away from her self. she doesn't want to do it without him, but she knows she must. she said to herself there would be no sacrifice but she knew that if she were with him the only thing she could become intoxicated on is him. and she was okay with that. more than okay in fact. it was a choice she would make without hesitation. but now it no longer mattered. as she walks back to her car, over the railway lines, and apstempty warehouses, she listens to the click of her bootheels against the footpath and she feels the air embrace her. she loves this temporary feeling of aloneness. but she doesnt like to be alone.