something in me has a hard time with certain things--oh no, i'm not articulating this very well. most of the time it seems that i confuse thinking of you with keeping my head clear. i couldn't even explain to you (it's never any use) how good it feels to look up from across the room and see you standing there. i'm forced to sit on my hands. i won't keep them to myself, they head to places they haven't yet felt you. i could've kept my hands out. i could've made it that much worse. i could've painted your face on my palms and wrung my hands out till they hurt. it's entirely directionless. but you make a great friend, between you and me. yeah i hope i can stick to that. yeah i hope i can believe in that, cause right now, and until then, this whole thing makes my teeth ache.