gurov

Sometimes I wonder about things like shadows and hope, and inside jokes, and how much is too much or not enough... I think about stories, about women, about flirting, about the edge of sanity, about where is all of this going... about diving, about diving too deep, about wales, about the time I thought I was in love, the time I was in love, about that day I felt invincible, and about those many days I felt so god damn small... sometimes I wonder about lost ideas, lost keys, lost favorite pair of socks... sometimes I think I feel too much, most of the time I think I don't feel enough... sometimes I wonder why no one will keep talking.. Or I'll wonder why no one will shut up... Sometimes I wonder about Gurov and the Lady with the Pet dog.. or about that one show where I sang my fucking heart out to an audience of five...maybe six people..... sometimes I wonder what exactly am I doing with these tools.? What exactly am I ever doing? Sometimes I wonder about the good things... and "somethings you lose and somethings you give away"... Sometimes I wonder about that time when the rain had stopped and the sun peaked through the clouds just so, where the light was greenish, and the birds came out singing--perhaps because the rain had or stopped, perhaps because a shit load of womrs came out , or perhaps because they were just retarded birds... Sometimes I think that the only way to rid myself of this doubt is to jump on a plane to japan, or dive into a book, or get a good night's rest... Sometimes I think of when I used to wake up when I was nine or ten and go stand on the heat register so I could warm up and my dad shook my hair and said "warmin up?' and I nodded my head trying to prepare for the difficulity that assurdely awaited the nine year old of my self.... Sometimes I wonder if I should have told Mary I really liked the song "I want you to want me" by Cheap Trick... Sometimes wonder about her... and then I wonder about who really knows me, and then I think this must be something everyone thinks... everyone must think "who knows me?"... but then I think of the "me of work," the "me of School" the "me of family" the "me of the Soo"... the "me of Cynthia and me" and the "me of jane and me" the me of home, the me of then..... the good the bad, and whatever else is beyond all that...Sometimes I wonder why "jersey" is such a funny word... sometimes I wonder about run on sentences, about potential, about wasted potential, about wasted ideas, about repeating themes, about cheap wine, about that time I really felt I could do anything I wanted, and that time I felt nothing was ever going to work.... Sometimes... sometimes I just wonder....