March 17th, 2004

Dirty pages don't write clean, but so goes life. I'm unsure of what to do where to go, and how to leave. Unsure of if I should leave. But if I don't leave then what's left? Staying. And should I stay? Is there anything to stay fr? I can only hope, but even that should go somewhere new someday. I'm writing unlike myself as the words bounce in my mind, hitting the tones and meanings. The exact syllables. I kind of wish they would bounce faster. But I don't want to write with the rhythm I had before. A new rhythm, a different one. I'm almost tired of dirty pages, and suddenly someone is speaking loud interrupting my rhythm. Causing me to look up and see a boy from dance. He smiles and nods and I return the same quickly returning to write exactly this. Ray is studying again here with me. Creating a new sort of art. My emotions are so confused and flustered, I don't know how to act or react. What am I thinking? Am I that insane? Yes I think I am. Because his smirk and dimples make me smirk myself, and where else from there? A little farther or a few steps back? Or could I really stand still with this? I can, and I suppose I should. He won't take it a little farther, and I don't want to take it a few steps back. With an infinite amount of options standing still is the best, for the both of us? A little change in direction perhaps? A new perspective on the situation? But where do I go for that? Lindsay was one. But no she's my same. She sees me smile with him and laugh and get along. But even she doesn't know the way things are with me and him alone. It's nice having someone appreciate what I feel. So where do I go for the new perspective? Could I just ask him? Or would that be weird? Something to consider, rambling for no sake. But still there's room on this page. Could I leave a blank spot?

January 11, 2005

2:03 am.
It's been raining for three days straight and I have yet to even smell it. Perhaps proving to me how distracted I've been. I know I'll have to stop writing soon, at least for the night. But while it lasts I'll take it. Deep breath and I want to cry. For all the moments lost. All the love and excitement I had for something so fake. I don't feel it. Or maybe what I feel I just don't know because I haven't written it down. But geez. These emotions I've been hiding, suffocating. This deep red coming through my blue. The pain and anger that interrupted my calm facade. But that's all it ever was: a facade. Turns out a lot in my life is a fallacy. Any thing I came to love and appreciate is at least. So f*** me. I'm going to lather myself in cold lotion. And fall asleep to dream the strange dreams I've been having lately.