They call it transference So I transfer to you Can you absorb And deflect All this negative energy That keeps enveloping me I don't know what to do I don't know what to do I wanna go Start over I wanna stay So scared I don't know I just don't know On any given day What I'll think What I'll do Or what I'll say They call it mercurial And they call it moody But I just call it Me
I'm writing again. Started a story. Dunno where's it's going to take me yet. It's really telling itself to me. Does that sound odd? Maybe I'm a little freak. But that's ok, cause I really dig me. And you. For reading me.
Keep on... I got some more coming. Hahaha. She said cumming.
Ciao for now! Love to ALL, -Mel
PS: Please don't ask me what it's about. I don't like talking about projects I'm currently working on. Thanks for understanding.
I'm not ok it's not ok it's not fair you were always there no one to talk to yet you always listened like you knew exactly what I was saying you meowed back like we were conversing
I don't know how to live without you I don't want to live without you There's a big black void where my heart used to be And all I can think is you're gone you're gone gone gone too soon too quick what did i do wrong gone gone gone
Nine and a half years Nine nine nine and a half years That's a long time That's his life line And I want him To not be gone But all I can think
is you're gone you're gone gone gone too soon too quick what did i do wrong gone gone gone
I don't want to live without you But I guess I'll have to Life keeps moving on No matter how slow you go Life just keeps moving on No matter if you're dead Life just moves on instead Gone gone gone wrong gone gone feeling guilty gone feeling wrong gone gone
Once upon a time when Jeremy and I were first married -- out here all alone in LA with no car and only each other for company -- we desperately had to go to a grocery store but Jer was real sick. Flu-like symptoms. But because he knew I couldn't possibly carry all the stuff we needed he decided to walk down with me, despite his illness, to the store (which was & still is, incidentally, "Evil Ralph's" near the Wiltern).
Well, to his chagrin he had a little accident in the store BUT he was standing in the Depends aisle where he said, all bent over weird, "I pooped my pants."
I burst out laughing because I thought it was a clever joke (he even sounded like an old, hoarse man when he said it) and all the while what with the Depends racks as his background.
He was serious.
I then went into full blown action mode to get him to the nearest bathroom right quick.
Funny side note: Due to not having done his laundry, he was wearing MY camo pants + MY boxers (yes, I used to wear men's boxers for underwear. "Try not to faint.") so like despite my mothering him I was also all, "Those are so not ever going to be my pants or boxers like ever again no matter how many times they got washed."
And they did get washed, myriad times indeed, and the Boy did wear 'em again.