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no one stops telling stories. it's in the blood. storytellers who don't tell stories aren't anything. they're nothing at all.

neil gaiman, parliament of rooks

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 Sunday, February 25, 2007

Don't even think about reaching me. I won't be home.Don't even think about stopping by. Don't think of me at all.I did what I had to do. If there was a reason, it was you.Ah, don't even think about getting inside. Voices in my head. Oh, voices.I got scratches all over my arms. One for each day since I fell apart.Oh, I did, oh, what I had to do. If there was a reason it was you. Footsteps in the hall... It was you, you.Oh, pictures on my chest... It was you. It was you...Oh, I did a what I had to do. Oh, and if there was a reason... Oh, there wasn't no reason. no.And if there's something you'd like to do. Oh, just let me continue to blame you. Footsteps in the hall... It was you, you.Oh, pictures on my chest... It was you, you.
pearl jam's footsteps
--
i am happy now.
and it's because of you.
sorry.
but it is. you know what i'm talking about. we had all the chances in in the world. but we never took it. please understand. i love you. but i'm happy now.

***

* tsakiwaki made kwento @ 2/25/2007 06:08:00 AM