Yay for haiku!
The poetry/writing-journal and diary is still MIA. I'm a bit worried.
Dear gods, I hope that no one at school found it.
Anyway. Here's something from it. Something that I remember exactly:
---
Hand in hand we walk
over bridges in full dark.
This cold silence burns.
Jeannie wants it in the school's literary magazine which is neat. She has also expressed a desire for more of my short poems (especially my haiku) to appear in said publication. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Yay.
I need something to make me feel warm and fuzzy damn it.
Went out for a drive with Hannah P., and we ended up chatting in the cemetary by Mack Daddy's grave. It was good times. She fed me and we discussed our hate-ons for TFC and other bad, bad, deviant stuff. Thanks to her I have now heard the road head song. Yay for dirty rock songs about teh sex? Sure. Why the hell not?
Talking to her always makes me feel a little better about what's going on with school and certain individuals. And no. There was a distinct lack of nicotine in our graveside visit. Hmph. I suppose I have to say that I still love her even after getting into a fight with her detergent. And losing. I ripped part of my toenail up from the nail bed. There's blood, and it hurts. Meep.
Byron, I'll be online sometime tonight. Probably late, so if you're there msg me! Must talk. I feel better. Hm. I'll probably try and call you before so late. I'll hazard a guess and say I'll check if you're back before midnight since I know you want to sleep and get some homework done. Ha! I should do that too, but I doubt I will...
Erico, I'm hanging in there. So many things to tell you if you'd just get yourself online for once. Or... ya know... email me? Yeah.
Secret 23. I collected stuffed animals until we had a yard sale and my mom "accidentally" got rid of them. It really was simply "a failure to communicate". *sigh*
Dear gods, I hope that no one at school found it.
Anyway. Here's something from it. Something that I remember exactly:
---
Hand in hand we walk
over bridges in full dark.
This cold silence burns.
Jeannie wants it in the school's literary magazine which is neat. She has also expressed a desire for more of my short poems (especially my haiku) to appear in said publication. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Yay.
I need something to make me feel warm and fuzzy damn it.
Went out for a drive with Hannah P., and we ended up chatting in the cemetary by Mack Daddy's grave. It was good times. She fed me and we discussed our hate-ons for TFC and other bad, bad, deviant stuff. Thanks to her I have now heard the road head song. Yay for dirty rock songs about teh sex? Sure. Why the hell not?
Talking to her always makes me feel a little better about what's going on with school and certain individuals. And no. There was a distinct lack of nicotine in our graveside visit. Hmph. I suppose I have to say that I still love her even after getting into a fight with her detergent. And losing. I ripped part of my toenail up from the nail bed. There's blood, and it hurts. Meep.
Byron, I'll be online sometime tonight. Probably late, so if you're there msg me! Must talk. I feel better. Hm. I'll probably try and call you before so late. I'll hazard a guess and say I'll check if you're back before midnight since I know you want to sleep and get some homework done. Ha! I should do that too, but I doubt I will...
Erico, I'm hanging in there. So many things to tell you if you'd just get yourself online for once. Or... ya know... email me? Yeah.
Secret 23. I collected stuffed animals until we had a yard sale and my mom "accidentally" got rid of them. It really was simply "a failure to communicate". *sigh*