i believe in falling down.

i believe in falling down. and standing back up.

the trick, though, is not taking anyone down with you. turns out, you can't brush the hurt off someone else. i know better.

i got this letter last night. it was an amazing letter. made me feel so good, it hurt. thank you mr. davis.

i feel muddled today. a couple of weeks ago, i wrote my own letter. and submitted it to the universe. and i got the response i didn't think possible. but it threw me off. and while i don't love leaving anymore, it's still the groove worn in my path. and i totally fell over in it.

hey there mrs. lovely by ryan adams

Hey There Mrs. Lovely

Well girl sometimes I feel just a boy
Put here on the earth for you to toy round with
I'm the plastic 3-inch armies you destroy
I'm the monster under neath your bed y'ain't afraid of yet

She let me in
And I feel all right
Yeah I feel all right

Hey there Mrs. Lovely are you coming out to play
I've been stranded on your door step every night and day
And I want you so bad but when you cry I get scared
Wanna dry your eyes with cinnamon and pears

You used to only want your two front teeth
But Christmas time it came it went, you ended up with me
And we started playing Twister with our tongues
We probably should have scrapped the game and gave ourselves some hugs

And I toy with you
And you toy with me
Can you stop this shit please?

Hey there Mrs. Lovely are you coming out to play
I've been stranded on your door step every night and day
And I want you so bad but when you cry I get scared
Wanna dry your eyes with cinnamon and pears
And pears
And pills
And pills

up until recently, i thought this was an accurate love song. what the fuck was wrong with me? the good news? i get to take the cinnamon and pears bit, because it's good. but, the rest, i'm done with.

dammit. i wish standing back up were enough.