Notes from an IPod Touch Pt. 3: Theme of coming up short

My Nemesis

My nemesis is tall and thin
Not goofy
Appropriately funny
A "joy to know"

He makes right decisions
The kind I would hesitate to make
And he doesn't try too hard
Always charming and clever

He has goals
Plans to achieve
And is realistic about them

He is everything I am not
But it's not what he is
And what I'm not
That makes him my mortal enemy

It's how he always gets the girl I want
without fail

But then again
He's the one they wanted anyway



Forgotten and Hidden

There are a lot of vast empty spaces in the world
And I occupy one
And feel it in my core
My heart
These dirty lungs
They fill with the beginnings of
deep sighs
No relief, just anxiety really
Crunching disappointment
Alone
This word that seeks me out
To smother my sense of trust
In positivity and hopeful feelings
Gone missing with my friends
I feel abandoned in this bed
at 45 minutes past 12AM
with the sounds of trucks on the 210 freeway
echoing off the San Gabriels
who even now spy through my window shades
The faint whoosh,
like a constant reminder
That people will pass you by like a long haul rig
In the darkness I feel my weight
my size
And I'm embarrassed to exist like this
With such fervor that I purposely shut myself off
in this isolation chamber of a room
Go Away
I think when somebody calls
But I want them here
I wish to God that I won't be alone
and it consumes me
A kind of paradox
Enveloped by emptiness
While I sing a song for no one to hear
And hope, beyond a reasonable measure of realism,
for someone to join me in the
chorus

In bluntness,
I am the song