but_i_must_stop andru235 lest i falter, yet again. probably i already did. i am a champion falterer, for your information. 050823 ... pete i take my lines from her dull eyes and the silence grows unbearable and i wonder how i always find myself in situations that i can't be myself in. the dark hands of expectation close around me and i forget the ways and paths that led me to this point. i slipped between the fingers of the hours, those that really didn't want me around. but in the end i still see a silent eye turn the corner, whispering at me to stop, to stop, and to keep moving on. "New slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries. Hope it's right when you die, old and bony. Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall, Never should have called But my head's to the wall and i'm lonely. " one last letter, sent and hopefully not badly recieved, its calm from one, though perhaps not a welcome one. i can only supress the words for so long, its been so long since they've flown freely, and the philosophers stand laughing at my fortune, freed from the bounds of their enemies to walk into their chains. the days pass without consequence. count downs are no longer forbidden -- an entire year can't be jinxed by keep track of its distance, of the return. i remember hearing my coworkers talk of september as the time when everyone leaves. i looked at them and told them that september is when everyone returns, and they just have never left, stuck in the same patterns born from when they lived with their parents, the same friends they've had their whole life, the same path even though they have changed courses countless times to end up here. which of us made the less choice? it's easier to stay when you're in the city, with oppurtunity. but. but. a question that's been brewing, crying out for an answer: are cities truly superior to towns? to villages? is the posturing and "hwoity twoity"-ness of it all worth the sacrafice of familiarity? but, how many people get stuck in the city, how many people get stuck in the town, drawn in by the drugs and alcohol, stuck where they don't want to be, but sufficing and smiling because its all they know... the philosphers smile around me "yes, yes," they say "you are almost in our web now." 050824 ... peyton I cannot stop. I cannot rest. I dare not close my eyes and lay my head down and take off this armor, put down this sword, step away from this fight. Not even for a moment. Not for a meal, or a night's sleep. If I do, I will never start again. -Critias from "Blisters and Bayonets" 050824 what's it to you? who go blather from