it always ends up to one thing, honey

there's a hole in my heart you could drive a mack truck through. still, does that really matter?

somedays i walk around with my whole world stuffed in a bag made from old jeans, and spilling from the pockets of my lime green coat. as weary as my shoulders become...these are my favorite days. these are the days i see familiar faces on state street; leaning against lamp posts, conversing with pharmaceutical [street] monks, absorbed in an affair with the crosswalks. these are the days in which i feel that i am actually participating in my life. adding to this feeling: brown plaid shirts, gustavo santaolalla, paul's books, challah, mental soundtracks. also, orange tom the piccolo man has the most adorable bell on his bicycle.

ABSOLUTELY 4th STREET: bob dylan
BLESSED TO BE A WITNESS: ben harper
MASTERS OF WAR: bob dylan
(I BELIEVE IN) TRAVELLIN' LIGHT: belle & sebastian
LAST TRAIN: travis
HOW CAN I TELL YOU: ben taylor (cat stevens cover)
OUT OF LINE: the bravery
COSMIC GIRL: jamiroquai
TILL I RETURN TO THEE: the pogues
WILD: poe
HOW SWEET IT IS: michael buble
EZ: pete yorn
NO WOMAN, NO CRY: the fugees [or bob marley]


i read a lot of love letters today. can't decide if they made me feel better, or worse.
sorry for being a bitch... it's a self-preservation thing, you see.


does it make any sense to you?


i'm always thinking of you, but my words
just blow away, just blow away
it always ends up to one thing, honey
i'm always walking with you, but i look
and you're not there
whoever i'm with, i'm always, always talking to you
i'm always talking to you, and i'm sad that
you can't hear, sad that you can't hear
it always ends up to one thing, honey...