Take me with you, I start to miss you.
Take me home I don’t wanna be alone, tonight.
Do you see? My favorite lyrics right now;
Mariana’s Trench. Pretty dress. Wearing shorts tomorrow.
I don’t want to be this anymore. I want to be free.
But none of us really know true freedom.
Remember when we were kids.
Hay Britney Spears? Backstreet Boys? A.Carter?
N-Sync, Avril, Simple Plan. HayHayHayy.
Remember your first real crush?
I do. His name was Jesse. We still go to school together.
And I knew the kid when he was in diapers. Attractive.
Remember Powerpuff Girls? Ed Edd and Eddy?
Johnny Bravo? Courage The Cowardly Dog? Rocket Power?
Fuckin’ Rocket Power?
Remember the phases? Preppy. Goth. Emo. Hardcore. Scene.
Indie/Hipster? What the hell are we?
Remember the sayings? Remember the Music?
Fergie? Ludacris? What the hell?
Now it’s all. Backseat Goodbye! Regina! Mariana’s! Envy!
Remember your first kiss? Remember your first boy/girlfriend?
Remember the awkward holding hands. Hug. Phonecall.
Remember when you Got your cell phone?
Remember planning your wedding?
Your Career?
I’m making a list. And I’m not going to stop until I have 99 things.
And that’s how these lists are going to be now.
But one of the things I’m going to do is. What I miss about being a kid.
When it was, “mommie, I want this Barbie doll.” instead of, “mom, I want this camera.”
When it was, “Daddy, I want this stuffed animal.” instead of, “Daddy, I just want money.”
I miss it. I miss it all. But not enough to go back. Because I’m so close.
so..close to being alive again. You know? Three years.
I don’t even want to be a photographer anymore;
There’s too many people. So many fakes. I’m disgusted.
I still love it. But It makes me not want to be a part of it.
I want to write. I want to be Anne Rice. or Sandra Brown. I want…
I want you to love August. And Angelo.
I want you to connect with my Characters. I want you to.
Go through what my characters to. And God Damn. I want you to cry.
Laugh. Sob. Call up your lover. Tell them you can’t live without them.
Make you greatful. Make you guilty. Make you. Love.
Love. Remember?
We all have dreams. and here are mine.
