The Velvet Underground and Talking to Tristan

I felt the evening rise, you know. It was something that just came out of me, spilled from my eyes that night. And there it was, the clouds lighter than the dark sky behind them, passing over what stars there were like ripples or waves. I had been growing tired; the way my skin crawled until I couldn't feel my own eyes, the way I saw you in every person with a nice skirt on, the direction of the wind being inexistent. Maybe I was just getting homesick, or maybe I was losing my nerve. If it was the second, then it would have been the first time in a long time. I sighed, I felt like I wanted my soul to just charge out of me, out and away from my heart so that I would stop feeling everything slip from underneath my feet. What was it anyway?

The death of my old life and my relation to all my old friends.

It was the first time that I felt surrounded by people who were so much more experienced at life and mature than I. Maybe I couldn't handle it, maybe I could just no longer bear to tell myself that the world will keep spinning on, or that I had a hundred years to do all that I wanted to do, or that all the pain I felt would be nothing but a sliver of a vague memory in my near future. I felt like a corpse shoved up against a corner of a bare room with nothing but my own mind to confront and fall in love with. Something that I could never grow into, or change to, or improve myself to. I didn't want to just sit and learn nothing, I didn't want to be content with only myself. The walls around me all felt as if they held nothing. The reason I cried was because I knew that I should be able to put meaning into them, to change their color with my mind, to smile at myself and know that it would all be alright because it's infinite, but the most sinister thing that I knew, that was keeping me from being myself, was the idea that I was wrong and had always been wrong. That I had just been tricking myself into thinking that I was beautiful enough to smile at the idea that the future is whatever I make it to be.

Maybe I knew what was inside of me, eating me alive like this, and just wasn't willing to speak about it to anyone yet.

I sighed again. I vowed from that point on to try to work out more often, eat less, and look at the sky as if it were the person that I wanted to fall in love with again. Kiss the wind as it breezed by me, hug the ground for supporting me. I had never been too great at vows, but even if I followed it a little I'd feel better, I thought. It's just hard when you can look back and know exactly what you missed and what slipped from between your fingers as you grabbed the life that you lived.