Make me real

There was this girl that I met in the nineties. I thought she was in technicolor and that nearly everything she said to me were lyrics waiting for music to kick in. I wanted to sing-a-long to all of her words. I wanted to linger around all that light she exuded. I wanted to go out and get drunk with her, dance on the rooftops of my old apartment building, have her fall asleep in my bed.

I wanted her to see me, and hear me, as someone unique, someone not like all the others. I wanted her to leave a mark on me, an imprint that she had been there, with me. I wanted to rewrite our lives, together. I wanted to be post-modern version of Bonnie and Clyde together. I wanted to be lovers and fighters and lost souls, together.

I wanted us to be rock stars, together.

Rock Star :: Hole

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