up and leaving me to this cold foggy city alone.
i feel constricted in my breathing patterns, in the tightness of my chest, i know i am loved, i feel so abandoned, and like i know I cant have you, which i cant and this makes everything so much harder.
i can't decide between two philosophies, well truly between choosing my own destiny and choosing what is meant to be and between the fact that everything has been written on a big scroll of papyrus in heaven and that I have no control over what I am doing. and who is to say that perhaps it is a mixture of both? perhaps i speak my choices and thus my destiny is formed.
all i know is that last september i met him and today i left him, for a world alone, for time to think and write. it's a different emotion than i have felt, because i feel so close, joined perhaps and at the same time, the distance is infinite, theres a time difference.
what hurt me the most is that we are not trying, yet we are, just maybe not fighting. i suppose i am a fighter as much as anything and i am not used to not getting my way. my stomach is a mixture of acidic fluid that tempts in waves that say "oh he loves you so much, he will do anything for you" when in all reality when they crash it ends it in sarcasm and laughter.
i feel nervous to face the next few days, to face the music i will hear and to face every place we have kissed, i still remember them all.

here i am slavng underneath the moon and thinking of romance, romantic songs, last kisses, last dances, last days ever straining.
i am moving back to my parents abode, to which i say hurrah for today. the bus rides are long dark and sweaty but my thoughts are plentiful a many.
i am dreaming about turkey, and colourful mornings,and the cultural rich sad state of russia that i want to see and expirience.

you are smacking your lips SO HARD and slurping like theres no tomorow. perhaps it is just stomach jealousy perhaps i wish i had a bucket of fruit as well. sometimes i feel like being the tattletale. but no one likes a snitch. the clouds are moving faster than any summer day in early july when they just dont want to budge, they are on summer vay-cay too. thats when the grass is sticky in paris and the metro crowded and yo cant even pull shirts over yr face because the sweat makes them stick to you.
right now i was i was there and now here and diping my fingers into my own sweaty armpits.