late nights and loud fights
it's all just a blur

7:22 p.m. | 2005-10-06
Shut Up Sinatra

�cause I remember how we drank time together
and how you used to say that the stars are forever
and daydreamed about how to make your life better
by leaving town, leaving town

There's this list of maybe 8 songs that I downloaded as my first downloads on Napster. On dial-up with only a few people on the server (it was relatively new at that point) it took over 40 minutes per song. Sitting there and watching each byte tick by as I waited and waited and waited just hoping that they would come through alright.

I've also had this terrible feeling all my life. My mother picked this town for us, she decided it was good to raise a kid in. She decided it was safe, and happy, and healthy, and environmentally conscious. I hate this town with a passion. It's one of those towns. We're not small enough to be insignificant, but people know each other, and we have an elite social sector and worse? Friday nights.

They consist of everyone going out and cruising, or going out and getting shitfaced. That's it. That's your variety of activities. Now here's where my issue comes in...

I love the thought of getting out of this sort of town, and I love the thought of explaining this town to people later on. I love the way I can say I triumphed and that things were so much better once I left. I did leave. Things were so much better. But that triumph I had? Now I'm back in this town. The same seasons are here, the same people are here, the same everything.

Even the same restless me.

I swear to god the other night I was driving home and started to get on the interstate just thinking I would drive to Boston, drain my savings, and figure things out later. I had the foresight to get off at the next exit. But you don't get it -- I'm still here. And there's still no one like me here.

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