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01/21/09 at 11:24 PM by AbsoluteINK
Author's Note:The following actually started as small bits of writing throughout one of my notebooks. The words were all written between 2002-2005. I noticed one day while flipping through the pages that there were a handful of pieces that had a certain flow to them and when put in a certain order, almost told a story. The beginning and the end were defined; the in-between needed a little something else. At this point, I wrote a few more pieces, inserted them into their proper place in the 'story' and thought I was done. I had written the prologue on the front of this particular notebook after reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and as I was typing these up, I decided I wanted to borrow it from Mr. Eggers and use it as my prologue. I thought it was a great yet simple way to kick the story off. I then decided to name each chapter, and after debating for a long while on a title for the work, I was not content with any of the ideas and decided to leave it without a title. At this point I was done, and to this day I feel like it contains some of my strongest writing.

Crit Obara
(with exception of "Prologue" by Dave Eggers)

first of all:
i am tired.
i am true of heart!

and also:
you are tired.
you are true of heart!

chapter i: 4am
we talk every night.
the sentences are long
the punctuation is rare
and the laughter is constant
but the words are nothing more than dancers
with no ground beneath their feet.
i say this every night in so many words: be the dance floor.

the (search for the) beat goes on.

i am the future.

you're my newest friend.
you're my most trusted friend.
let's talk about the past
and make plans for the future
but live today like it was our last.

i feel the beat.
get on the floor.

we are the future.

chapter ii: a secret
how long until this gets out?
this will get out.
are we alone? are we together?

i'm dying to see the look on your face
and the look on hers too
when she hears the news.

how long until this gets out?
how long until i get there?
we're not alone. we're not together.

note to self:
remember to breathe.

chapter iii: found out
word travels fast.
you thought you knew
well who are you
and just where did you hear that?
the public eye never blinks
and it watched me catch my breath this time.
i know you know.
you know i only hide when i have to.
her room is where you'll find me.
the door is open.

chapter iv: revolution
i hear the revolution
every time she opens her mouth.
i feel the revolution
every time our lips touch.

a whisper in the wind.
a kiss in the dark.

something is tapping at my window.

the revolution is on her tongue.
the revolution is coming.

chapter v: lgfuad
"we'll lie about
our whereabouts
and be home just before sunrise."
that's all it took.
walk in. scan the room. fair enough.

i remember telling you that you were the prettiest girl in the room.
you laughed at me and laughed at me
as if i'd told a joke.
maybe i had.

i remember entering the room upstairs with you.
you laughed at me and laughed at me
as if i'd told a joke.
maybe i had.

i do not remember what i said to him
but i will never forget tasting blood and hitting the floor.
as if i'd told a joke.
maybe i had.

chapter vi: the icu
the promise ring i mailed to you
hidden in that lousy note
filled with prose. overdose.
memories are all you have when you're lying in a bed
in a place where people come and go for good.
i was asleep but i heard you whisper "goodbye."
i wasn't gone. i'm not gone. i'll never be gone.
i'll check out on my own terms or not at all.
you're my oldest friend.
you're my most trusted friend.
i'm sorry. i never meant it. let's go home.

chapter vii: 1+1=1
train take me
away from you.
passing by
red and yellow
green and white
they spell out your name
if i try hard enough.
shining at me.
pining for you.

lonely leaf flutters across this empty road.
one lonely letter.
this winter better be.

it meant so much two years ago.
now it's as good as ash.
this feeling is not a new one
and yet i'm still readjusting.
collecting thoughts, blood and stones.
the 'me' in the story is now 'you'
and yet the 'me' is still intact.
in fact, it's better than ever.
having 'me' and 'you' as one.

chapter viii: voice box collapse
i don't care. we can break the laws. become lawless.
i don't care as long as you're here.
we can run through the streets and scream.
wake the sleeping children.
hoot along with all the owls.
sing along with the incoming tide.
ocean crashing waves that hit the sand.
all it really is is dirt.
you are here and so am i.
you show me who i am inside.
i can't ignore this feeling anymore.

i don't care. we can make a life here. become secluded.
i don't care as long as you're here.
rock and roll all night.
sleep away the day.
rest our inner demons.
i'll play for you bleeding fingers.
i'll sing for you til voice box collapse.
your face shows you like my song.
i hope you like this song.
you are here and so am i.
you show me who i am inside.
i won't ignore this feeling anymore.

chapter ix: distance pt. 1 (dream big)
one word at a time
one letter at a time.
it depends on the machine.

i could make all the right strokes
with no hint of emotion.

i could speak into one end, listen to the other
and know that each word is bouncing off a satellite.
the words lose intonation on the way up
and sincerity on the way down.
that satellite feels closer than you.

i give.
i'll write it in a letter.

chapter x: distance pt. 2 (act bigger)
i wrote another letter today.
it was addressed to you
but of course i didn't send it.
that's three in three days.
plus that one last week.
year to date: 37 letters written,
not a single one stamped and sent.

chapter xi: sick
a drunken night: a tally mark.
your wall is full.
no one ever said moving out meant moving on.
i got your message.
"be ready for me and my bottle.&amp"
i'm not. you're not. they're not.
you've convinced yourself.
i'm calling in sick.

you're just running away from your face.
so run away.
you're just making another mistake.
make it fast.
the hate in our words is a sign of the times.
i dare you to make this last.

i'm calling in sick of you.

chapter xii: complex
so i'm just a page in the book
but i'm giving you this whole chapter
and i'm dying to come up with a hook
just so he can sit at home
and get real high
and call you up
and sing this to you
every time the radio plays it.

i never said i was better than vengeance.
i never said "i'm better than you."
but you did.

i wanted to ask "who the fuck do you think you are?"
but i knew you didn't know the answer.
your ego's a burden i just won't bear.
three months from now you won't even care.
not you. not god. not anyone.

you're a bad, bad influence
and everyone's under you
but baby, i'm over you.

three months from now you won't even care.
not you. not god. not anyone.

chapter xiii: sleep at last
the next time i break into your house i hope you're not there.
i'll sleep in your bed
and not just because you never let me.
i just want to be like you
and feel nothing at all.

is this breaking you?
this is not breaking news.

this ends tonight.
if only i could see your face
when you find me
and my still heart.

the fountain of youth
or maybe it was wealth.
it's always one or another or another.
the hate in your words is a sign of the times.
frame by frame of reference.

i cannot feel a single thing.
this is what it's like.
dead and dreaming.

the (search for the) beat stopped.

i cannot feel a single thing.
this is what it's like.

i just wanted to be like you
and feel nothing at all.
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