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my mom stays up late to browse the personal ads... i stay up later so that i can make this confession of sorts...

i tried to write you a letter tonight. i had it all planned out this morning while i was laying in bed. when i sat down to write it, nothing came out.

i read through my old paper journal. the one i kept when i was homeless and couch surfing. it was sad and it made me cry... to read about how i felt then.

i don't need you. that is a wonderful feeling for me, not to need someone. but, i thought about you all day. and, i miss you now. and, maybe that draws some kind of pity from you, but i hope not. part of me hopes you read this, the exhibitionist part. another part of me wishes you wouldn't.

but, how could i tell you about what other people have done to me and not tell you what you do to me? i guess it doesn't seem fair. funny how i seem so brave to some people, but i'm afraid of this.

afraid would be an understatement. i'm scared out of my mind.

i want to just get it out and say fuck it. i started with nothing, and if i fuck it up now, i'll end up with nothing... and maybe all i have right now is nothing. i made the first call, and i hate playing it safe. nothing exciting comes from being well behaved.

she'll let you in her heart, if you've got a hammer and a vice

surprised? i didn't think so.

11:40 p.m. - 2002-01-13


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