Blue

It's not about days like these. Not even about the wheather.
It has nothing to do with a certain fantasy guy or even the one that is closer without being real anyway.
I won't mention deceptions or broken promises, careless thoughts or forgotten apointments.
I wont speak of the songs I've never written and the chords I've amazed myself with finding and then, like magic, forgotten two seconds later. Music is like that, its there all along, you just need to find the right combinations and the perfect timming.
Maybe I've read too many stories, watched too many movies and dreamt too much while still awake.
I guess it has something to do with this silly need; I feel like I need to be someone else again. I want to learn a script and become someone else every time. I dont think Id be so terrible at it. Maybe in the acting but not in the becoming. I want to change my name for a day.
Maybe it has something to do with the gray that is starting to crawl into me; it has taken my troath, my hands, my feet. Soon it will reach my brain, my heart. My lungs.
Maybe it has something to do with me listening to Stereophonics and feeling like a love child in the 70's, a flower in my hand and crazy hair flowing around in the wind. They make me want to get high while laying on the rug looking at a moving ceiling fan.
Maybe it was Phoebe in wonderland, maybe it was that I never read Alice, maybe Im getting old and searching for a heart of gold. Maybe Im just getting blue.

*