Conor, you've remained on my wall all this time for a reason, and it isn't that I couldn't be bothered to take you down. You don't quite fit in with The Clash and Sex Pistols (on my wall and in my playlist), but you're a poet, a star, you really are.
Music stays with you, forming the soundtrack of your life. Listening to songs from difficult chapters of your life are sometimes unbearable until you're a good few chapters away, when you can revisit the chapters not as a character but as a reader.
Like the sky on summer days, before you turn and walk away, it has changed you.
Had dinner with the wifey <3
Friends who know when to talk, when to advise and when to just listen,
those are the best ones. =)
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Sometimes I worry that I've lost the plot.
My twitchin' muscles tease my flippant thoughts.
Listening for patterns in the sound of an endless static sea.
I've got some friends I barely see,
but we're all planning to meet,
we'll lay in bags as dead as leaves,
all together for eternity.
But don't you weep,
don't you weep for them.
There is nothing as lucky,
as easy,
or free.
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