this all started when (i suppose i'll be honest) we were doing lines the other day (my first and probably only time) and while coming down dom asked me some questions that sort of went like this:
"so do you think there's a chance you two will ever get back together?"
and i looked at him and i said
"is it that obvious i'm still in love with her?"
and both him and maureen said yes

and later that night dom asked
"what's going to make you happy george?"
and it was the scariest question anyone has ever asked me because i honestly had no idea whatsoever.

and people could point out that i love writing and that i've always talked about wanting to be a writer, and maybe i want to be an actor or a director or a fucking philanthropist in any regard,.df

but it was never my art that i cared about, it was who i wanted to make it all for (which has always superceded everything) -

and that person has changed. if kv were here he'd probably tell me it should only be for myself and no one else. that's why i write, i suppose. dom made it a point that my constant writing is like his constant talking. i don't know where im going with any of this, i strayed from the point already as to not look too patheticc

i don't know what i'm going to do today. a carousel ride really sounds nice, maybe a flight through some clouds on a hoverbike. ive never been inside a windmill before, and there are hills nearby with hundreds.
broken little windmill don't you cry
papa's gonna buy you a brand new sky
and if that sky is clear and bright
you'll forget about me before it's nightttttt

bye for now
love,
george