Lover, are you lonely?

Nostalgia is a theme in my blog. Read, it's running rampant.
Longing- another major theme. Read, it's all consuming.

I had a very odd dream about an ex that we wont mention as of now. It was very disturbing. But there's no doubt about where it came from. It was spawned from the loneliness I'm feeling. Look at me; I'm a mess.
On a happier note, I got my pictures back from the shoot last Monday. I look amazing. *laughs* I say that with as little vanity as possible. But really, they do look good.

I need something worthwhile to say. Something insightful. Something interesting to you people.

So, A Story? Oh kay.

close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Listen to this song- Dreams by The Cranberries.
Imagine: buildings that are thirty stories tall covered in windows, 85 degrees being elevated by the blacktop of the city. What's on your mind as you walk through such a beautifully exotic contrast to the bland country side you spend every day in? Could it be taking in the sights of this city you may not be in ever again? Could it be how you'll do that night? No, it wouldn't be anything you'd expect.
A girl, you me just the day before. That's what you're thinking of. Trying to figure out what she's doing, even though you have no way of knowing. Wondering if she's thinking of you. You find a smile has crept onto your face and blush. How could you let this happen so soon?
Keep going with your imagination: You're on stage, with fifteen pounds of blue material hanging from your body. The only way it's not falling down, showing everyone in the crowd how you're severely lacking in upper body assets, is by being so tight it's impossible to breathe. Your feet are screaming for you to get off of them. And while this all is happening, what are you thinking? Are you wishing you could sit down? Are you wishing you could stay up on stage?
Again, not what you'd think, though this time is more predictable. No, you're wondering where she's sitting. And whether or not she's paying attention to you. Wondering if she's looking more at you than at her sister who is so ironically placed beside you for the whole thing.
Keep imagining: One Hundred and Twenty Four days later- you're sitting at a computer, typing yet again about this girl. This girl that had your heart after two days. Longing threatening to be the end of you.

You're just a sad song, with nothing to say.