outta my, outta my head

She thinks I can't see the smile that she's fakin'
And poses for pictures that aren't being taken.
I loved you.
Grey sweatpants. No makeup. So perfect.

Our love was comfortable and
So broken-in.
She's perfect, so flawless.
I'm not impressed.
I want you back.

today i rediscovered one of my forgotten favorite songs.

in a fit of job search related anxiety, i decided that i should be listening to soothing music while i search. i get tired of the music on my iPod/iTunes, which i listen to every day all day; for that reason, i sought out an obsolete alternative for my therapeutic purposes: the old compact disc collection, stored in a dusty trapper-keeper looking folder i've had since high school.

nothing is soothing me more today than vintage, pre-douchebag John Mayer. before the tattoos and the Twatter posts. back then, he just looked like he had anemia or hadn't slept in weeks. i was so in love with tired, sweet John Mayer.


his early music takes me back to Pittsburgh circa 2002. takes me back to cruising down the highway in my sweet little green Jetta, with my 6-disc changer and my sun roof wide open. big ballin', baby. he really was (is?) a fantastic lyricist, like early Dashboard. i used to get lost in these albums...

Comfortable.