i remember going around the curve a bit too fast, and the brakes failing, and how we both let out a gasp as the car went off the road and into a fence. and then afterwards, we held each other and cried.
i remember being drunk and driving all around town looking for you, asking people if they knew where you were, then stopping my car in the unfinished subdivision for some reason, finding a bottle, breaking it, and cutting up my arm with it.
i feel like i've always been searching, but i'm not sure for what. i've never been satisfied, but i think this is a good thing. it keeps me going. i also think that drugs have helped me to become more agreeable with life, more accepting in general. i don't know if i yet know what i'm doing or where i'm going, or if this is it, or if it matters.
i'm an intense individual, and sometimes that's good, and sometimes it's bad. i want to be a better person, but i rarely make any attempts at doing so. i just sort of hope that people will forgive me for not being a better friend, son, brother, lover.
sometimes i want to be an outlaw. i want to be doing something not allowed, and with a partner. like bonnie & clyde. i feel like most people can identify with that, hence why we're fascinated with theirs, and other, similar stories.
i don't know why i wrote any of this.