pass through

i'm feeling a sort of strange, electrical inspiration. emotions always grip me best when everyone's asleep and i am finding my way around alone for the first time. i'm going to freewrite for you, in a way i haven't before. i'm not even going to think, just write.

blinking lights are here and they make me think of lighthouses. but i was not dreaming, no, i was not dreaming when i told you that i think about light a great deal. i wonder about its properties, and i also wonder how it makes it possible for me to see you. it is an amazing thing, my ability to see you. light plays no role in my ability to touch you, which i know doesn't happen often, and that's because my inhibitions play the greatest role. you know it, too, but that is how people work for me. i flinch, but the prospect is beautiful. there is a fan above my head making me cold, but it is hot and i am confused. the desert is just full of emptiness, but i'd love to drive through it with a fast car. really fast. i mean, so fast that your nose would feel like it is making a race to the very back of your brain and you are racing the cheetahs yourself.

grow me plants that are beautiful beyond beauty, green beyond green. i want technicolor. you don't have to if you don't want to, i guess. i could water them on my ownsome, by my lonesome. and i will be lonely, oh i will be lonely, and you will be miles away, lonely. two lonely people far away from each other. that is how the world will keep us, how life will keep us, forever. in its little hands, we will be in separate palms, never close enough to brush palms ourselves. maybe we will see each other across the divide, but i'm not sure if yelling will be an affective form of communication.

i want to cry, a lot of the time. to be wrapped up in tears. it's so human, so vulnerable, so emotional and beautiful in its own way. i want to write a song that makes people cry. because crying feels good. feeling sad feels good, in its odd way, and i'm sure you know what i'm talking about. sometimes, it is nice to be able to fall down into the deepest parts of yourself that you don't even want to talk about. sometimes it feels good to be bare and naked and complete with the knowledge that you have nothing to hide. and i don't. i have nothing to hide, except for what i'm hiding behind. there's so much to tell you, so much to tell you that you already know.

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