White Cars

Let's say there is a girl...
More like a woman,
I don't want people to get the wrong idea.

This lady is someone,
Somebody who makes me feel good.
And that is something worth pursuing.

But my dilemma is,
She's the talk of the town
And she's stolen everyone's fancy.

What concludes me to believe
This time will be different
From Allyson, Sheila, Nikki, etc?

What makes me any different?
What makes me any thing, anyway?
Memories and bookends are all I have.

Am I worthy?
Do I compare?
Just another head in a room of faces facing the other way.

So, what gives?
I only ask questions to hear myself speak
Even when I don't want an answer.

Is there anything special about me?
Not a lot,
Less than most I would guess.

Yet there is something so mesmerizing about her;
I cannot bear
To think she would even entertain the notion of me.

I watch as interest is shown.
I see her reject and accept.
I notice how quickly my chances diminish.

There's no need for a contest,
I'll bow out before I start.
You see, I've never been one for competition.

Scores of prospects flail about
I sit on the sidelines and give advice.
Friends don't matter when romance abounds.

Commitments were scarce in my day.
Newspaper ads were more common.
I guess that's how you make your choices.

Day 5

Life is better.

Writing helps. Work helps. Hanging out with friends certainly helps. Life is okay, but my dead car (of which I need a new alternator) is a constant source of frustration, but life is alright. Sarah says I have until midnight tonight to keep mentioning this incident. Then the pity party has to end. I think I'll mention it one more time to her, just to get some of this perspective she mentioned in her last post. The thing that bothers me the most is my own mind. I question so many things. I have shrugged off a lot of criticisms and corrections in
life. Perhaps I should have listened. Now, when I don't want to listen, and actually have a real reason to be pissed, I can do neither. The mind wanders, and mine won't stop wondering. Don't worry, I have a lot of poetry that has helped me cope.

To quote Joey Ramone, a man who I am sure would befriend me, "Don't worry about me."

P.S. LSUCKS

Day Two

My heart still hurts. I should start a new blog about rejection. I've been turned down before, but this hurts. It always hurts more when real emotions are involved. As sad as this is, there are moments where I feel like randomly crying. Why do I let this bother me so much? I should be pissed. I should be so many things. But I'm not. I'm not anything. And, apparently, that's the problem.

Dear Girl I Liked That Dyes Her Hair Blonde

Stop! You give natural blondes a bad name.