Do you remember who I am? Because I don't. I get as close as I can to touch anything, but there will always be particles between me and myself, between you and me, between eye and eyelid. I like the feel of the molecules between my finger tips and the keys of my netbook. Weird to say or rather, to type.
I miss a lot. I know that I'm going to cry sixty-percent of the time while I'm in Texas. I'm am definitely going to cry when I get seen off by one of the most amazing people in the world.</3
I'm in a disappearing mood. I want to leave everything. I want to start new. I want to sever all ties. I want to go to you and look straight in your face for a few seconds before looking at my feet and muttering "goodbye". The tears will hit the toes of my shoes and I'll look up at you one more time before walking away at a fast pace. There are very few things I want to take with me: Pawlie, Sophia (my vihuela), a small suitcase of clothes, and a large jacket. My hair is bleached blonde with some brown streaks from the roots, I'm wearing a denim button-up, large sunglasses, a sun hat with a sunflower on the right side, my sexy jeans (ha), brand new boots, and a matching waist belt. In my left hand I am carrying a business-like suitcase with my jacket folded over it and my right hand is holding Sophia. On my back is my little backpack with Pawlie, a few important documents, money, and such inside. I want to disappear....
Yet, I don't know myself.
