Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 827. Or, Thursday Watch The Walls Instead. I'm not quite sure where to start, not because I have nothing to say, but that I'm in some kind of emotional state where I can't really put a finger on anything. The second I recognize an emotion, it flitters into something I don't know and I'm left with a feeling of missing something. They're all on the tip of my tongue. I hate recounting events here. It's so unimportant, so boring, and so not me. I guess this is the holding pattern we've all come to expect. Here's here. I've just been reading, and driving around downtown looking at buildings in long neglect, people want too much money for a roof. And remembering that I'd be destroyed if I had taken off my chastity belt, what secrets I keep are kept from myself as well. Pretending to be too young to know better, playing coy, like if it had been any other day when the guilt wasn't hanging over my head I would have done. It makes me sad, frustrated, I can't hurt his feelings, not really. He's built of stainless steel, chrome backing. My running at the mouth was directed for his protected underbelly. The only thing I could have told him that would have given me what I wanted would have been a lie, my mouth full of someone else. But I met someone who is Anti-You. A giant, screaming nerve ending, who doesn't quote movies and sings along in Spanish, laying on his bed, holding my hand. I have to remember I deserve this. Tuesday was the start, leaving Wednesday to chew over Tuesday, and today feels like Friday, I'm pretty sure I could fall in love. [Remember the difference between telling me I have a beautiful face and telling me I am beautiful.] 12:51 p.m. - 2004-01-29 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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