I almost think about writing it down and decide to save it and forget it instead. I've got nothing to balance out my mellowness, nothing to match up my happiness. I can't find any picture pretty enough. I'm emotionally detached - me?
No, I'm not. I can convice myself of anything, I'm telling you. Alexis is alright, I'm well-loved, S-B M is dead, sexy boy smiled at me, Alex is a pixie. Alex, you're a, I won't even say - you'd care more than I would! I'm the more apathetic! I'm emotionally detached - me? No, I'm not. I can convince myself of anything, I'm telling you.
One-time-only special! It rains as soon as I sit down, it pours in the sunshine as I sit for hours. I don't know where all my time goes - listening to the same songs over and over, maybe. Nothing in the whole world is relating to me. I'm emotionally detached - me?
No, I'm not. I've got nothing to balance out my mellowness, nothing to match up my happiness. Lesser's coming round to pick up the stuff of his I've got, stuff I've had since we broke up two years ago. Alex's staying away to practice at the dream-shooting range, practices strumming bowstrings in his free time.
All the books I read reviews of are based on the authors' childhoods, as if grown-ups can't relate to fiction. I do understand - I'm pretty emotionally detatched myself.
One, two, three, four, tell me that you love me more
Sleepless, long nights, sighs, what my youth was for
Oh, teenage hopes arrive at your door
Left you with nothing, but they want some more
Oh, oh, oh, you're changing your heart
Oh, oh, oh, you know who you are
Sweetheart, bitter heart, now I can't tell you apart
Cozy and cold, put the horse before the cart
Those teenage hopes, who have tears in their eyes
Too scared to run off, to one little lie
- Feist, "1234"