WRITERS BLOCK, GONE!

this excites me like no other, for fucking sure. got into a spat, wrote a song, and it's OUT. I CAN WRITE FREELY. :)
this is the product;
"you say you were pissed
when we missed the ending
and when i held your hand
and hiding the winks you were sending
to those other girls
i never did see
i tried and i tried and i tried to have you like me
but it's been way too long
for me to care anymore
and i'm laughing right now
just happy you left
because for a while i just
missed you so bad
and i cried and i cried and i cried
well that's shit
because it's wasted tears
and i wish i had used them
on something more important
because i met some real friends
the ones that do care
because after you left when i had nothing there
i was out and desperate,
bare and alone
and it forced me to make
some friends of my own
so thank you for leaving me
and thank you for making me cry
and thank you for being immature
and getting high
because i've been over you since the day
you left and i'm almost i'm almost
almost ashamed to say
we were in love.

Bone Machine: Part 1.

Music: Where Is My Mind? - Pixies


You know you've had one drink too many when you wonder what it would be like to try and fly off the cliff right behind your house, fly and go to Canada, fly and go to Aruba.
So you take another shot.
You're giggling and laughing and muttering and you can't feel it, but there is drool dribbling out of your mouth and on to your empty coaster.
You haven't put down your drink in 3 hours except to get another.
And you knock the 20-something girl next to you, you knock her drink out of your hand and you lean over and pick up the shards of glass. Every single piece pricks you but you keep on going because cleaning it up is what you have to do get everything better. The pain is worth it.
You look up, study her. She's 4'10 or '11, maybe, dark brown hair. She's tiny everywhere and you can see it. She's got this, something in her eye - you can't put your finger on it. The way she looks at you almost gets you half sober for a second.
So you take another shot.
You start to talk to her, and you figure out her favorite color is green, but not forest green and definitely not lime green. Her favorite band is a three way tie between Iggy and The Stooges, Radiohead and Smashing Pumpkins. She's half Mexican.
So soon you're asking her back to your apartment, and you don't quite know if you remember where it is.
But she says yes, and you realize you've never even been with a girl before.
You stand up, grab her hand. Every inch of you is on fire. Your skin crawls and you can feel it when your heart starts to pound.
So you take another shot.