I woke up at 7:38 this morning, with the title for this post clear in my mind. My dream ended, I was staring at this screen right here… but I can barely visualize the title now. I rolled over and fell asleep until 9:18, when I got a text that I should have been up and caffeinated for.

I did wake up with a song in my head though… specifically a cover of a song, I love covers. I love covers because it’s a new interpretation of a song, it gives a new flavor to the same lyrics. Cake’s “I will Survive” is such a great example of this, as well as that metal cover of Sara McLaughlin’s Breath that I can’t name right now but will in the second cup.

I meant to send a text to the boy last night, but didn’t, because I didn’t know what to say. But it’s been a week since he texted me some long vapid self important drivel, and I should get back to him because he’ll probably fall off and fuck someone else if I leave it much longer, with his short ass attention span. I can’t decide if I want to try getting back with him or not. I clearly do love him, but I’m well over that part of my ego where I think that matters for any reason beyond making me utterly miserable.

I can’t remember the title beyond the first two words and the first letter of the second… I don’t want to think too hard on it because I don’t want to fill in the blank space with a false memory (see what I did there?).

I just want to mess with him. He made me promise, so many times that I wondered if he was just afraid to break up with me, that we’d end on respectful terms. So let’s define respect, let’s think about it. There’s a panic rising in my chest, rising and dropping in my gut like a super fast ocean current of sharp acid.

This song is so short that I’m mostly just writing song tags today I guess, the layout of this post is getting boring. The page looks featureless and the content is crap as well.

My brother immediately identified his behavior correctly as depression. He sympathized with the boy.

But that in no way means that you have to sit around for that.

My brother. Man, I was just getting used to the layout of the old blockquote, and there they go changing it on me and I don’t know how to change it back. Suddenly, I feel old. Wtf, where did my mind go.

I just thought of what I should text the boy. He probably won’t appreciate it or care, but hell, I don’t care either.

So enough about him. He’s been a shield to take up my extra energy when I know that I should be thinking about more important things. More important things that Taylor Swift covers… but yes, Blank Space accurately depicts what I’ve got going on here. I’m horny as hell, my side dude won’t satisfy this because, although I ridiculed my previous ex mercilessly for it, I want a relationship, the illusion of building something. I suddenly understand what he was going for, although it’s a fucked up thing to do to someone. I fully understand that I am doing something fucked up to the boy, but he has definitely proven himself worthy of poor treatment. Besides (just like my previous ex I suppose) I make up for my fundamentally poor behavior with expensive gifts trips, and an overall better quality of life that he’s lucky to see.

So weird the lessons we learn… I wonder who decides who learns what in this life. Did I really have to lose my eye over this? It feel so unfair but I know that somehow it is fair but I just don’t understand how, I can’t abandoned the feeling that it somehow makes sense, I just can’t make the sense this time.

You don’t l

It was short, I swore I’d remember like I always do, but I never do.

Some of these covers are surprisingly good.

I have to get to NY to see my friend… we’re supposed to work, I haven’t done my share.

You’ll come back each time you leave. Because darling I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream

It’s what I wish dating me was like… dating the boy was like that, but he honestly doesn’t have the dick I’d daydream about. Why am I even bothering.

I am so mean. I did love him, or at least I was insanely attracted to him. Once in the actual act… it was good, but I’ve had better to be honest.

I had dreams about my clients last night. And I dreamed that I accidentally killed an apple off of a young apple tree before it was ripe, helping him trim in his yard.

Well, this post didn’t go anywhere, so let’s revert to dreams. It’s gonna suck without blockquotes though, maybe that’s why I don’t really want to do it. Time for an extra long sip of coffee and two song tags.

I was in a loft, in a brick building… I believe I know which building, and what apartment. It’s a brick building, sunken into a hill, I believe it’s sinking further. People were able to climb into my apartment through the window.

Being as it’s above a nightclub, the party crew was there. A man who I used to have a crush on, and it was reciprocated, while I was in the last loosening grip of my drama with my ex, was there with some of the usual friends.. He dumped out a giant pile of coke on the table. My side dude was also there, with his usual group of friends₁ and also dumped an only slightly smaller pile of coke on the same table. The first friend dumped at more, “accidentally” mixing the two piles.

There were people everywhere, some that I only kind of knew. It was obviously a party house.

1. I forgot that they used to actually live together, that must have been awkward, they hated each other.

I didn’t get to the good part, where I was irrevocably embarrassed in front of childhood friends… which sounds like I’m really nervous over how my interview went. I had good feelings about the first interview, bad feelings about the second. I feel like I impressed the sales person, but not the engineer – accurate, because I’m a fake. However, regardless of how this goes, I feel like I got a valuable resource out of it. I should concentrate on that, and calm the fuck down. I was clearly reaching for a job that I was definitely not qualified for, so what did I expect. However, I did get an interview, and I should feel good about that generally. I will and I do.

I stuck to my weird magical thinking promise to myself and didn’t tell anyone except the one woman I used as a reference about my application. I hope that that didn’t ruin everything, but at least I know what to blame it on if it does. I bet it did.

Highly ironic that the only repeat song tag is the last one… and I’m hanging onto the last half sip of cold coffee because I see it’s coming up. It occurs to me that I don’t have to do that though, maybe I won’t. We’ll see what happens.

I tried not to remember the title to the post… maybe this song will remind me.

You don’t l

You don’t love me <=== feels like it’s the right length, not the right words

You don’t let me love you <=== feels like the right message, too long.

You don’t let me leave <=== feels cooler but I’m pretty sure I manufactured that one.