This is going to be one cold new years...

I'm not quite sure what I'm doing with myself lately. I feel completely lost, even more so with my current living situation. I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss having a LIFE.

I'm so sick of fake people, and I'm so sick of friends that I know don't care about me and would drop me in a second if something better came along. My friends aren't like that at home. But up here, I feel like they are. I need some solid friends that are only interested in my friendship, without any motives. I miss shows back home so much, where I knew everyone and I just felt... at home. When I go to shows up here, I feel so out of place. I know only a handful of people and I often feel that I'm bothering them by talking to them. All I've got is Steve sometimes, and even that often falters.

I'm not quite sure where or when I lost my way and became so scared and insecure. Or maybe I've always been this way and my immature ways hid it well. I think everyone feels this way at one point or another.

I had a terrible dream last night, perhaps that's why I feel like my emotions have been placed in a blender all day. I had a dream about my past, about some truly stupid things I did a long time ago. I'm not even that person anymore, but the dream... it was so real, it was happening all over again. I was right there again, in that old boarded up house in Nyack, with THOSE people. Dark and cold... messed up, couldn't see straight... wanting to just disappear, sink right into the floor I was laying on, like some messed up movie where the carpet would just swallow me whole. If I could take back that night, I would give anything.

I spoke to Mike this morning when I woke up for the first time all week. Maybe that wasn't the best way to wake this morning...

Been staying up way too late again...
Trying to sort it out.
Tracing all the lines back to origins.
Been keeping track of of everything.
And I've been keeping track again.
And everything seems too glaring to me.

So tonight I'm stepping outside
For what feels like the thousandth time.
Walking with hands in my pockets,
Looking down the same old streets.
This place can become a part of you,
Whether or not you want it to.

And everyone I know has been keeping to themselves
And everyone I know is trying really hard
To grow and to change.
And I'm not keeping up.

So tonight I'm stepping outside
Wishing that it could be the last time.
I'll stare at these same old streets,
Wet pavement under me
And you never notice the days getting shorter.
You never notice how it can all change.

But it does...
Because in the mirror sheen of these slick streets,
There I can see a face looking up at me.
I know its the features, I know its a shape.
Weathered lines trace a story of change,
Not of being left behind, not a tail of flitter or shine,
This is just me.

And with this foe I have a love hate past.
How come you win every race.
Fine I'll relish what I have today,
And then tomorrow I'll do the same.
The next time, memory crutch staying home.
Next time I go...