If I forgot who I am, would you please remind me?

Does anybody here know
the definition of a best
friend? Because I'm thinking
that the people who call
themselves my best friends,
don't know what the hell
that means. Best friends
are there for each other.
They trust each other.
They don't lie to one
another. They are
completely honest and
fun with one another.
Did you forget what that
is? Thank god for Rach.
Because she is the ONLY
one out of the four of you
who knows what the hell
a best friend is.
Senior year is going to be
a trying and difficult time.
But maybe my life
will finally be sorted of
the bullshit and nothings.

A love struck Romeo sings a streetlight serenade: You n' me, babe, how about it?

It appears that the simple ways
of thinking, considering other
people's feelings, and evaluating
social situations have breifly
abandoned the minds of most
male figures in my life.
Do they all think like this?
Because if so, quite honestly,
I'm fucked. Boys are
bogus excuses for human
beings sometimes. Seriously,
who gave you the right to
act like such a ridiculous
piece of pond scum
sometimes? I regret
becoming closer with some
of them. Because it always only
takes one line to be
crossed for a completely different
monster to peek its beady eyes
out from under the bed. Screw
that, who wants to deal with
it? Not I. Girls are always
saying shit like "prove
to me that you're
different."
and I've
always
hated
that.
But
now
it's just
an honest
plea. From
all of us, really.
We hardly care about
how great of a guy you are
or could be, we need to know
that you are completely different
from the rest of the asses who've
screwed us over in the last
couple of epicly heartbreaking
chapters. Can you do that?
Prove it.

Sometimes I ramble.

I smell like smoke
I taste like you
Bittersweet

I wait for your call
But it won't come
Bittersweet, oh

One more night
To add to the list
Of things I never thought I'd do
With you
Oh, bittersweet

What a whiner.

I wish I was more of a poet.
I admit, I do have my rhythmic days
of impeccable comparisons and hypothetical
situations, but honestly.
I wish I was more of a poet.

Rachael just got back from Cali,
and I'm incredibly excited for all of the
paint-clad voyages that we'll be making.
Not all best friends can pull off
spending an entire afternoon
painting whatever they find lying around.

Writing a song is difficult sometimes.
I grew up on the twangy lyrics of country
story books. Country songs are rarely
viewed as poetic riddles, like the lyrics
that I want to write.
You don't know what I'm talking about.
Google the lyrics of Sara Bareilles and
Matt Nathanson. I want to write like them.
I want to tell you a story, but confuse you
into second guessing what I'm telling you about.
I want you to love the way the melody
wraps around that little piece of poetry and
say "hmm, miss em. I think I want some
more of that," but for all you know, that
little bitch fit of a twirling ditty was
written with your face at the front of my mind.
You wouldn't know. And that makes
my heart dance inside.
Why can't I write more songs like that?
Two down, countless stories to tell.
www.myspace.com/emillybond
Go ahead. Sample a lil' tasting.
I'll let you know when I'm back on the
main path to musical excellence.
It's a bit foggy at the moment...