• crazy even for this forum, which is essentially an echo chamber for my neuroses and occasional possible psychosis anyway. My phone wouldn't post it. It's probably for the best. I read the perks of being a wallflower for the first time, and after finishing it, I was convinced you could read my mind or at least feel that I was sad. I know you can sense what other people are feeling, but can you really feel me from that far away? I've been sick from sudden unexpected drug withdrawal (I make fucking *great* decisions), so yesterday I spent all day in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, wishing you were next to me. I listened to talk show host and it felt like sex. It made me want you more. I didn't do anything about it, though.

  I don't want to fuck up what feels like it just got fixed--I had such a good time last week when all three of us were together, like it used to be, before I screwed everything up and made it weird. I miss you sleeping on my couch, knowing you are looking seductively innocent maybe thirty feet away from me as I lie in bed, savoring the tension between surrendering to temptation and guarding against my weakness, preserving right deed and thought. Do I choose peace among friends or do I choose selfish gratification? Now I'm a drunken pseudo-philosopher! I truly am a dilettante. I'm well aware that's not a compliment.

  I miss the hell out of you, and I'm not the praying sort, but I would make offerings to something if it would guarantee that I would see you with any regularity. I am seduced every time I listen to songs you post. Watching you on stage drives me insane. You play me easily, adroitly. I wonder what you could really do to me given ample time and opportunity, and that thought distracts me from a number of other things to which I should be devoting my attention.

  (only posted in a moment of poor judgment after staying up all night)

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