free-writing.

"it's when you put a pencil in your hand and put the pencil to a paper and you just start writing...you don't think about what you're writing...you don't read over what you're writing...you just keep your hand moving."

boy, what could you be doing right now? my future best friend. who could you be? are you sleeping? are you studying? are you looking for me too? are you waiting just as patiently and impatiently as i am?
the moon sees both of us and nods. all will be right with the world in no time, it says. ah moon. it is all just fitting.
splendid. i must say that i am dying for a rasp of jello smothered with hot chocolate. it is a cool night and autumn's breeze is under the galley while we fret as fretters for lost love and the moon frowns. alas we cannot have all. some of us have to wait forever and they won't ever find the treasure they've buried or the seed they've planted. although it is itching to grow it will be plantless as the fig tree was fruitless and it will be damned and cursed for just plainly existing.
you stand unhappily by the cliffs of crashing waves, melodious and untimely it calls you so you can jump, lapping up the heavens and you sigh a thousand sighs over your breakfast croissant with your coffee spilling over the stiff white linen of the sands of the beaches. you sit on a checkered mat draping yourself across the inlet and you dazzle everyone that sees you sprawled underneath the sun like a bronze coin ready to be picked up and you do not wait to be spent. but my goodness what a life of sadness. waiting for the figure in the setting sun horizon to come closer and closer until it's no longer just a silhouette but an embrace, a passionate kiss. until it's happiness you've found again. now, yes, tuck it away. keept it in the box. and make sure it is its own lock and key. make yourself at home. lock yourself in and imprison yourself in my heart.

did you forget or did you remember but just didn't care?
you are unreedemable.