The Wild One

and I dont know why my life has changed so quickly and unmonitored. All of a sudden i'm someone else. What I can attest to is my endearing sense of purpose. I must go to Europe. San Francisco must be left both quickly and with style. Thats probably the biggest problem. How do I let the closest people to me down? The most interesting thing is not my wanting to do it, but more an inner voice suggesting at what things may come. I consider this a psuedo-crossroads. What exactly do I want? It all really does play back to what matters most to me. My own happiness. A golden cage, really. Then theres the other problem. Just leave now, you wouldn't miss it. I just cant. Thats why i'm so upset. I had even considered this as being perhaps the most dangerous possibility, and it unfolded like a damn prophecy. Words to describe: love, beauty, sadness, nostalgic, impossible, perfect. 

It always happens during the damn holidays. Every year now. It's because I have too much fun in the summer, and I have such a good troop of friends going that it's impossible to resist. Wild one, why did you ever come? Or is it me? Perhaps it's your collective calm. There is always a calm before the storm. I'll go my own way. I'm the wild one. You wouln't ever follow me. I love you. Joke with friends, but never talk to strangers...

Lonely is really my calling, but what a terrible calling! Why can't I just accept a satisfying fun!? Drops of rain turn me into a painting. Your painting. Do I really look hot when I smoke? Champagne all the same. How do you say star in french? I'll have two bottles, rather late don't you think? ...

                       you

                              have

                                       no

                                            idea