Foundations

Thursday night.
Everything's fine.
Except you've got that look in your eye, when I'm telling a story and you find it boring.
You're thinking of something to say.
You'll go along with it, then drop it, and humiliate me in front of our friends.

Then I'll use that voice that you find annoying and say something like, "Yeah, intelligent input darling, why don't you just have another beer then."
Then you'll call me a bitch and everyone we're with will be embarrassed, and I won't give a shit.

My fingertips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation, and I know that I should let go, but I can't.
And every time we fight, I know it's not right.
Every time that you're upset, I just smile.
I know I should forget, but I can't.

You say that I must eat so many lemons, cause I am so bitter.
I say "I'd rather be with your friends, 'cause they're much fitter."
Yes, it was childish, and you got aggressive.
And I must admit that I was a bit scared, but it gives me thrills to wind you up.

Don't want to look at your face, 'cause it's making me sick.

Nothing.

Am I better off dead?

Am I better off a quitter?

They say I'm better off now than I ever was with her.

As they take me to my local down the street, I'm smiling but I'm dying, trying not to drag my feet.

They say a few drinks will help me to forget her.

But after one too many, I know that I'll never.

Only they can't see where this is going to end.

They all think I'm crazy but to me it's perfect sense.

And my mates are all there, trying to calm me down, cause I'm shouting your name all over town.

I'm swearing if I go there now, I can change her mind, turn it all around.

And I know that I'm drunk, but I'll say the words, and she'll listen this time even though they're slurred.

So I dialed her number and confessed to her that I'm still in love, but all I heard was nothing.

So I stumble there, among the railings and the fences.

I know that if we're face to face, she'll come to her senses.

Every drunk step I take leads me to her door.

If she sees how much I'm hurting, she'll take me back for sure.

I wanted words but all I heard was nothing.

Sometimes love's intoxicating.

You're coming down, your hands are shaking when you realize there's no one waiting.

Bigger and better things

BY ZEP

http://riot-on-main-street.blogspot.com

Dealing with difficult people

BY ZEP

If you're not going to listen...

If you're not going to reach an understanding...

If you're not going to open your eyes and ears and mind...

If you're not going to have a semblance of logic...

If you're not going to try to compromise...


...then communication is non-existant.


It's going to bother me to lie to you...


...but if you don't make an effort, there's only so much I can do.

You've closed your minds, and I'll close my lips.

No truth will escape them now.

At least, for you.

Collingwood Day VII

BY ZEP


Christian: It's like we've switched places while we've been here.

Me: What do you mean?

Christian: Well, you didn't really wanna come here, and I was really excited to go. And now I really wanna go home, and you are having a good time and don't wanna leave.

Me: ...................................are you nuts?!?!??!?!

Collingwood Day VI

BY ZEP

I'm wracking my mind and filling in time.

Twenty-twenty-twenty-four hours to go.

Or about that.

A hot shower has never felt so good. A sleepless night has never felt more grudgingly drawn-out.

In my reflection, I see anxiety and impatience gazing longingly back into my eyes.

On the television I watch fish being cut into pieces and politicians being mocked.

But all I think about is home and your arms and eyes and smile.

Collingwood Day V

BY ZEP

I know what I have to do.

But doing it is the hard part.

I know what I have to say.

But saying it could tear the final shred of confidence from you.

I have to be strong.
Fearless.
Brutally fucking honest.

Otherwise the infortmation won't penetrate your thick skull.

I want to see you happy, as do many others.
But you don't want to see yourself happy, which is the big fucking plot twist of eternity.

Keep digging the metaphorical hole, and you'll be six feet under soon enough.

Because in your mind, everyone wants you down there.
But you were the one who picked up the goddamn shovel in the first place.

I'm not going to cut you off, or out.
But I'm also going to cease churning out the sweet honey of advice that flows from my tongue.

I can't help you if you don't want to help yourself.
I'll keep trying...in other ways.