Time Stole The Joy

Monday I drifted away with some coffee to keep me awake.
And you saw me just one final time, as this credit card shut up your eyes.
Tuesday I woke with the dawn and put my old wedding ring on.
She said, “time is a fickle mistress, you can drink, but you’ll never fool it.”
I am invisible to you, I’m all on my own, what can I do.
And wednesday I hung from a tree hoping that you’d notice me.
That you’d bathe all my wounds in your tears and shower me with sympathy.
And thursday was harder to take with these pills piled high on my plate.
So I swallow each one in a haze in a cascade of light, I was saved.
She says, “I’m sorry, my darling, time stole the joy we were hiding.”
I am in love and this baby is yours.
And I don’t want to live in this light, let your darkness just cover my eyes.
And I’m trying to get myself clean, but it’s all I can do to just scream.

Goodbye.

"Leaving isn't quite the same", you said to me, it's running' away.
"If you're scared or tired of what you're scared of, why should you stay?"
He loved to say goodbye.
And always counted all the time.
Until he was free,
to get up and leave,
to learn how to breathe again.

Slipping outside your head, there's some people you've never met.
Ask him if "by the way would you like to run away and try to forget?"
Just not to stay.
To leave without saying why.

To get up and go,
To catch the last train,
To get in some car and drive out again.
To never come back this way.
Left to say,

goodbye.
so long.
farewell.

Don't go.

Patient on the porch for hours.
Please don't go away.
It's not fair. Just leave me here.
I put myself out there today.
Sitting alone in silence.
Choking on three simple words.
Cat's caught my tounge.
"Life goes on" we both learn.
It was torture, but I spit them.
Disappear and I am colder.
I'm telling you I'd do anything.
And the world fell off my shoulders.

Visual Frame Story Telling - "When You Were Young"

I spent yesterday in Concord with some family, old people = a lot of great shots! Haha, just kidding. But really, I did get a lot of decent photo's and I put them in a 5 frame story here. So please give me some feedback and tell me what you think =]


-Andrea<3

Mad.

I used to watch how he'd treat a girl,
Had a bone to pick with everyone,
He was so angry with the world,
I watched her drink ten to none.
I'd tell you to keep your distance,
Grown up, no longer scared, I don't have to listen.
When I was filled with innocence,
I was still committing sins.
I fought you all my life,
Every day she was sober,
The darkness swallowed her,
And his heart simultaneously grew colder.

Don't you dare.

Honey, it's burning,
and the girls are getting sick up in the bathroom,
while their boyfriends pick up chicks.
And, darling I'm lost,
I heard you whispering that night in fountain square.
Trashed filled streets made me wish we were heading home.
There was love inside the basement, where that woman used to lie.
In a sleeping bag we shared upon the floor almost every night.
Oh, darling I'm drunk,
and everything that I have loved has turned to stone,
so pack your bags and come back home.

Yeah, I'm wasted,
you can taste it.
Don't look at me that way.
Cause' I'll be hanging from a rope.

If he was a fire,
he'd burn out before I wake.
And be replaced by pounds of whiskey, cigarettes, and outer space.
Then somebody moves and everything you thought you had has gone to shit.
We've got a lot,
don't ever forget that.

Don't fucking move,
cause' everything you think you have will go to shit.
We've got a lot,
don't you dare forget that.

Material Things.

So, I did some school shopping today - I purchased A LOT, and I noticed the difference in my mood after I finished shopping. It got me thinking 'was it the materialistic value of the THINGS I got that made me happy? I'm not sure if that's bad. I mean, of course everyone likes STUFF, it's nice to buy STUFF, but aren't there more important things in life?

Distant.

It's funny how two people can be together for 28 years, and psychologically live on the opposite sides of the world. More like, opposite sides of the house. She's always on the couch workin' her way to arthritis with the remote, and he's in the bedroom killing brain cells watching movies and chatting on the phone. She's an introvert, and he's an extrovert. Here I am, in my room, wondering if love lasts. Don't you think you would get bored after 28 years? And then you get gray hairs and constantly nag about him leaving the sprinkler on for an hour. Does love have to come to this? Or is it up to them to find that spark again? I know one thing, and that is that their spark is a dying, bland, trapped flare stuck in a straitjacket.