you probably think this blog is about you, don’t you?

I shouldn’t, but I do, and all without good reason, certainly without proof.  And it’s too soon, and somehow too late, but it’s true.  I wish I could smell you and somehow taste your want for me.  I miss something we haven’t even had, and the most fcuked up scrap of it is you’ll never know.  I’ll never tell, and for a second you’ll think this is about you.  You’ll dissect it, the way you like to do, and then you’ll suppose that one line isn’t about you.  And then the pit will infiltrate your stomach at the thought it’s for someone else.  Then you’ll feed your fingers in your hair and have hope.  And then, that will make two of us… hoping in "vain."



  1. Let's keep the Carly Simon thread going, Stephanie. JT has a line that echoes this post, too.

    "How come I miss what I never knew? Drag out the past just to paint it blue? Spend my days with a dream of you?"

    Been there. Done that. 17 years ago. And if you've ever longed for a past you've never had, you'll never ever forget it. Your words cut deep tonight. Well done.

    PS Robyn, listen to the song… That's Jagger on backing vocals.

  2. Plantation [and Robyn]: It was Mick on the vocals… but it wasn't written ABOUT him… I thought that was what you were driving at too. !! :)

  3. Much like David Geffen (or was it Jeffrey Katzenberger), I would like to pay you an egregiously large sum of money to have you wisper the identity into my ear. The fact that I know neither you or this person adds to the egregiousness. The fact that I do not have a sum of money, egregiously large or otherwise shows that I populate your blog for no purpose.
    Good day to you, woman!

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