i ran away

think I might've played Playstation for about two and a half hours last night. Most of which was spent singing songs that never should've been written. "Cause you're everywhere to me. When I close my eyes it's you I see. You're everything I know that makes me believe. I'm not alone, oh whoa whoa. I'm not alone." But my Valentine is a mighty good singer, so that makes up for it in the team competitions. And, I dare say, I got a little more competitive than the last attempt at Cameron's, my voice was shaking, I threw 8 months of voice lessons out the window, and sang "You're the one that I want, doop doop doo doo doo. Hoo hoo hoo. [Repeat] The one I need. Oh yes indeed." at the top of my lungs.

I'm kind of nostalgic lately, deja-vu-(y). I want to be in Chelsea petting my dear canine friend Woody. Or on the beach of some Mediterranean island. Maybe even in the city of love, although my last experience with it lead me to believe it wasn't so much love but a lot of dirty old men who like to grab butts of unsuspecting/innocent females from Idaho. Even Disneyland would be ok. My dear Hilleroy will be leaving me in about a day to go there. I lack the funds, the necessary time off school and work, transportation, people who would seriously go, and the impulsiveness to just leave. Sometimes I wish I had that.

It's been three years since I've been. Princess parades, Peter Pan rides, over President's Day weekend. Downtown Disney. Strangely appealing to me. From the french food to the trees covered in twinkle lights. I can't forget the unpaid actors on Valentine's Day. The two of them about 17, girl in a white top and a flamingo pink polka-dot skirt, boy wearing his straight-leg jeans with fifties rolled pant legs and fifties shoes. Chasing eachother through the little corporate-planned imitation of a street, past the people buying eclairs at the cafe, past the high school students eating their spicy-shrimp and fries, without a care. I wanted to be in that. Not just an onlooker to a pure and innocent love, or what I've come to embody as such.

My itunes brings up a familiar song on shuffle. I Ran Away, an obscure Coldplay b-side. One that I played on repeat on my blue panasonic cd player, the kind that plays burned cds only when it wants to. It was the theme song of the vacation. A little melancholic, a little wistful. But it sums up what that trip meant to me. Reminding me of where I am, sitting in my spotted office chair. Spots from some unidentified food consumed in the laziness that exists in the slow hours at the office. Avoiding cataloging the artifacts of some archaeological find. I am longing for a place I hardly know, the unfamiliar. Fifties attired, high school couples, the fabricated perfection of a street in LA. I'll sit here, three years later repeating the same song I did then. Dreaming of escape, of somewhere else that I may not even love, but which sounds much more appealing than anything else today.