ife’s lost something more than gloss.  but that’s the only real word i can put on it.

Maybe i just need a better fotographer.  capture the essence i think I’ve lost

i miss being dead beat with my dead beat friends.  that had some beauty to it that can only be explained in riot folk songs.

I thought when i quit my job I’d be beautiful again.  I’d magically make dead beat friends again.  Life would be miserably awesome again.  Wallowing and comiserating in the fuitility of life again.

Instead there’s more emptiness around.  The same I tried to run from.  I keep saying, life is elsewhere.  Thinking it was 5 years ago or in that old apartment I used to live in where I stay up all night writing songs about how life seemed to be elsewhere.  

I’m not sure it’s anywhere anymore.  It’s lost in my heart.  Lost in the photographs capturing a life that’s becoming unbearably clean.