Change

Why does everyone change. I miss you. The old you, though. So there's no point.

Why can't I just stay content. Why do I look to other things.

You're interesting.
Creating something there's not is your favorite game. Yes, we should just live. But for joy and creation, not the drama and lust you've enstilled in me. These manipulative games we play with eachother are useless. When do we learn that this is not the way.
Quit being someone else. Quit. Now.

I really liked that. I think maybe, far down the road, I could do that. Live like that. A spiritual hope atleast. It was refreshing, none the less. And I liked the sincerity. How there was ono one in charge of the sound or the lighting. No "right way". Your voice could be heart. They were actually interested. This is how it's supposed to be. I mean, if there is a right, this is the closest I've seen. It's not fake. People came because they wanted to. We drank out of mugs they would later wash for us. All judgement was gone. And he taught. Not for his benefit. Or to impress. And not because he was asked to. His tattoo fit him well.

Oh, it was simpler when we would just laugh.