"You can't take a picture of this. It's already gone."

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso

Sometimes you meet people you know will be precious to you forever.
This is both a rarity and an everyday occurrence for me.
(this is why I shouldn't write melancholy drunk-or maybe ever)
The reality of my world is that everyone lives in perpetuity in my head. I have a million stories in my head about everyone at any given moment. I get lonely a lot but I am always full of the words. The words keep me safe but they are so loud sometimes and they don't fill up the big ugly empty spaces.
I don't know if the big ugly empty parts are a part of everyone. I hope they aren't.

Seriously though. Fuck the rest of what I wrote. Drunk melancholy writing is absolutely terrible.

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