“You know you can't keep letting it get you down…”

This too shall pass.

“…Let it go…”

“I've got no expectations / To pass through here again…”

Saying that something went as expected depends on the expectation. The tone and the history can each connote contextually, but the response is as much a reflection of the audience as it is of the speaker. The undefined expectation gets accepted without unchallenged so often, it’s rather surprising when the evasion is actually called out with a follow-up.

“Step one, you say…”
One foot in front of the other.
“…We need to talk…”
Interview, and so much unsaid.
“…Begin to wonder why you came…”
Tired of trying to be someone I’m not.
“…Lay down a list of what is wrong…”
After 6 years, where I was 6 years ago: trying to be where I was 6 years ago.
“…Drive until you lose the road / Or break…”
One foot in front of the other.
“…How to save a life…”

Acknowledging the wave, but not getting the buzz.

You can’t judge a song by its cover.

There’s a lot of difference between getting a lot out of this and getting out of this.

Apparently someone is working on the apartment door, but it sounded like there was a sneezing elephant outside my apartment. Now excuse me while I look up sneezing elephants on youtube, because I don't know actually how sneezing elephants sound.

Breakfastfest.

“I remember the song where the rats sang along / And danced for their daily bread…”

Daily: adjective or adverb? Battlelines drawn, and with sanity in the balance, let the daily manner be debated, checked, and proofread with the mindnumbingness of a routine life-changing obsession that probably won’t matter. The scream of “aaaaaah” doesn’t accompany understanding, just grammatical irrevocability.

Give us this day our daily free pancake.

“…And the only thing left / Was to flee from the nest…”

“I look at the floor, and I see it needs sweeping…”

Some things need to be moved, some need moving.

“…I look at the world, and I notice it’s turning…”

Just a little fine tuning.

“…While my guitar gently weeps…”

Secret shopper/agent.

Convergence.

There’s nothing like the feeling that, by pausing to inquire about the possibility of ordering Orangina before approaching the cute girl sitting alone, one has narrowly avoided hitting on the bartender’s gf.

Playing for Team Spoiler.

I like to think that somewhere, somehow, Dara and Siele are happy together.

H.A.L. = Julie Andrews

Chicago is like London, but with less tea and lamb.

I couldn’t tell whether it’s a rock that looks like a potato or a potato that looks like a rock. So I called you.
I thought you called to chat.
Oh, that too. But it was a catalyst.

Win some, lose some.

“I am the passenger…”

I need a day like that every once in a while.

“…And I ride, and I ride…”

I need a night like that every once in a while.

“Tonight I was haunted by some dreams / That we'd never run in the rain together…”

As I drift off to sleep, I realize the one question I didn't want to and don't take pleasure in overanalyzing is: why do I like talking to you? I don't think this is very coherent. I think I want to share it anyhow. Share- that's the word. I talk with you because I share to you and explain to myself. I don't know what it is on your end, if it's different or the same or both. That's probably not a healthy way of holding a conversation, but don't really feel like getting into the how and why. Maybe that's not fair, for both of us. But a green rock is green; if I wanted a green rock, why would I complain that it's not indigo?

“…Don't believe the scientists that tell you what to think…”

I need to live vicariously through someone living vicariously through me.

“…And everything will fit / Into place where it belongs / In time…”

It’s like a pillow fight, only with last week’s New York Times.