I am feeling stunted by my vocabulary and it's hindering what i am really trying to express. So this will proabaly come out as bumbling nothingness and i am not even sure what the point of it is. But i digress. The weather. Sometimes it scares me and the feelings it conjures. It's starting to get warmer, right now there is something in the air that makes me so wistful and restless, it becomes sickening... But at the same time there is a peace and calmness about it. Comparible to the acceptance of my own demise. On warm nights that bring upon breezes, my mind goes elsewhere. To the past, to the future, to somewhere i am not even sure exists. I am pulled to walk aimlessly around the streets and listen to the trees and the wind, to fill my lungs and my heart with their secrets. I had a friend once, we would do exactly that, together. Walk around, sometimes with words, sometimes without. But it didn't matter. it wasn't always space that needed to be filled. We let our surroundings say everything we couldn't. Other times we would sit on grassy hills and smoke cigarettes and read our poetry to each other. I remember at his funeral, one of his poems that they found was read out. It was one he'd shared with me. I don't think words yet exist to desribe what i felt at that moment. I've never been able to hold onto a friend since him. I still have a piece of paper he wrote on "Why? And the question still remains". I still don't have the answer and he'll never be able to answer it. But still i walk on these warm nights. Filled with a horrible longing for so many things... i can't even begin to explain in any kind of detail what is inside of my heart and mind. I'm not so sure it is even safe for me to delve into this any further.