Star Mile

Oh doubt in the girl by your side
She's feeding your pride
As you go for a ride down the star mile

Worlds arise as she lets you come in
A duo begins
To the Hollywood din of lonely

Chorus:
And all the gold dust in her eyes won't reform into rain
You had and lost the one thing
You kept in a safe place
Remember the face
Of the girl who made you her own
And how you left her alone

All's well at the base of the hill
You might need to fill
a prescription to kill off the silence.

Look down from your tower on high and take in the night
Look her right in the eye
She'll listen

(Chorus)

Life comes to those that are true
The regular news
Over playing the blues with the light on

And if you burn the road that'll lead you back to her in time
I'll watch you turn to stone
Can't find the sublime

She's moving on without you
The tide breaks
You watch the stars fade
They gather you back to their home
I guess it's better than being alone

-Joshua Radin

-o-

"How much my life has changed in the last 6 years." He thought as he walked himself across the park, it wasn't until he read to himself his past journals that he realized how much has faded while the rest has sharpened. Even the color of his eyes and the shape of his mouth has changed. He sometimes hides his lips in facial scruffy facial hair just so that he can pretend he's smiling.

This new place, these trees and sidewalks, these broken benches and different songs from different birds. He had left so much behind with only a gamble in his hands, a gamble for something he wasn't quite sure what it was.

These past six years, they've been something more than the words he's put into the pages and images he carries underneath his arm; a thousand pens could never truly describe that time, even if he knew enough words to write that much.

His shoes are worn down and stained with the mistakes and tears he's shed and the people he's stepped on, ask him and he'll tell you "I'm not proud of of that." He'll say it with the sincerity of an infant but the guilt of a criminal. He can't help but feel ashamed of what he could not change in himself and the world around him, he thought he was stronger, healthier, better that what he now realized he was...

... his own written words did not lie, he wrote them himself. As much as had lied to himself, his words, his notebooks were there and they told a different story. For at that time he had transformed from something so innocent and strong to something so evil and unrecognizable. Exactly what he had for long despised.

He crossed the the park until it became a busy street, there he saw a trash can, for a moment he thought to himself "I could en this here. I could free myself from this burden a carry in my hand and become someone new." But even then, when he thought of that he was already walking away and back to his own place, where someone was waiting for him, where someone who did not have to know about past was making sure everything was perfect for him, his black coffee with a teaspoon of sugar, his favorite food, empty ashtrays to fill up again.

No one had to know, and he only had to forgive himself to forget.

"I need to write. HOly -shit do I need to write down some words." He said while lighting up another cigarette.

Things had changed since the last time he was around. I cant say he's better but I definitely cannot say that he's worse. It's difficult to explain, his face was the same but his voice was different, and I'm not talking about a change from the smoking, it was more like an elder speaking, a seasoned old man telling his tales.

"So, I'm getting married..." He told me with a smile. "It's the strangest feeling in the world. I wasn't nervous or anxious to propose, it all came so natural to me. It was as if I had breathed the words out."

He had told me about the girl months before but he never brought it up again, I had thought that nothing had come from it and that, like most things in his life, it had come to a premature end.

I knew life had been hard on him these past couple of years and during that time I wouldn't have been surprised if had gotten a call telling me that he had somehow died by his own hand. Now he's a changed man, like I said before, not better or worse, just more suited for what's to come.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked in between the smoke coming from his lips.

"As sure as I've ever been. For the first time there wasn't any fear or hesitation, I knew then that I had to take that momentum further and use for what I wanted to accomplish. I still have things to work out by myself but I know at least that part of my life is set."

I could still see smoke billowing from his mouth with every word he said, as if he hadn't blown it all out before he uttered his answer.

"Things are going to change as they always have." He continued, with his cigarette hanging from his lips. " Things are already changing in other people that at one point meant the world for me, but now I can't allow myself to be pushed to the brink of guilt. I did what I had to do to survive and now I'm picking up the fruit of that decision and it's one whose taste I'm enjoying."

He took another drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out, building a wall of smoke around him that hazed the edges of his face and gave the his word movement and a presence while traveling through the smoke.

"it's that I'm relishing in the guilt, it's more that I've learned to live with it as a part of who I am. I had to unintentionally hurt people to get myself where I am., anyone would do the same, everyone has."

That last comment made me look down to the ground and realize how right he was. People hurt and get hurt, people get over it and people like to get stuck on it. He's had his war and although he's far from winning it he's given himself the opportunity of fighting back.

I guess we all need that. He had changed.

I guess everyone needs a little change.