There was one like this.
some blog about movies, panties, music and cigarettes. Some shit about Friday nights and hair clips. It wasn't so much bragging but it was about fucking too. not like porn. not like just all memories either. I mean you didn't know if it happen yesterday or today. I think all the sex stuff was just to piss some people off though, I cant be sure.
It's like about hotel rooms and smoke and wine all over the page. It's the little things that count. It's what it means to you and not them that matters most. I know if you tried to figure it out (the words) it would just hurt your head. You'd just end up in tears. feeling sad about something you didn't do. something just short of obsession. something or someone you couldn't ever have. I'm not sure, but I think that's what all the writing was about.
People change though, I'll give you that. But you go back every once in awhile and he'll still be talking about the same shit. Missing the same fucked up girl. Spilling his heart all over the page like the worst country love song. I want to tell this guy , It will get better. but I know it won't. It's something to talk about and sometimes you just say things to hear how they sound. I get the idea I love you is just one of them.
The pictures aren't that good though. Not like here. fuck. the words aren't so great either. but what I admire is that he tries. He doesn't care if he gets any ones attention. not hers, not yours, not mine.
You see, there was one like this. A lot like this.
It is this.
your back roads.
they twisted and turned
it was a fine night.
the other night.
The next night.
tomorrow
night.
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