what if i told you that my palms hurt?

deep tissue, as deep as you can get in the palms, pain.

that if i made a fist, and dug my nails in slightly, a line along both hands would make itself known?

i trailed along today. following behind her and him, whoever was there.

taking my paces slow so that they slowly crept forward.

i got there, of course. i always get there.

i might go to alabama this weekend.

i told someone that. they said "why?"

and that pretty much sums up alabama.

heh.

no, it's good land, good people, if you find the right land and right people.

but everywhere is like that.

sing my melody for a dollar.

i walked up the cashier, and i heard her say "working at a truck stop? what do you think i do there, SCOOP ICE CREAM?"

happy and horribly well, girl with her soul on a shelf.

get dirty dammit. live the life. bleed some. sweat some. cry some.

i had a dream last night. this morning. either way. point is, in the dream i was on a plane, seated behind me was this little girl who i was friends with.

beautiful child who i loved with most of my heart.

i knew, too, that the plane was supposed to crash.

i knew that some of us were going to die. hell, at one point on the plane ride i wondered if i had already died, and was just reliving this moment over and over and over.

like a ghost.

i knew, though, that i could change the outcome somehow. i would die, no matter, it was just how many people would die with me.

i gave the girl behind me grover to hold onto, to protect.

i made it so that, when the plane crashed, as it was going to, no matter, people could escape, or be taken out, of the plane.

we crashed.

the plane took an almost gentle dive to the right. hit the trees silently. fire.

i woke up a while after that.

i had to alphabetize three pages worth of names today.

i have a fake tattoo on me.

im avoiding friends.

im taking a shower now.