You saw the best there was in me.
I wonder if what people write in their livejournals is anything like what they write/would write in a more private journal?
This is what I wrote in mine today.
"June 6/05 807pm
The first sip of tea is always so shockingly hot. I try to prepare myself but still jump back as it burns my tongue and lips.
I'm sitting in Victoria Park under a tree close to Wellington and Central. It's a nice spot, enough people in view to watch and observe, yet blocked out from the majority of the park to feel like I have some privacy. I wish I could be one of the kids who come with a bunch of my friends and play frisbee barefoot, and then break while one of us plays guitar and we drink tea and eat trailmix.
I want to be barefoot. There's something so innocent and free about not having shoes or socks on and just letting the blades of grass sprout up between your toes. I don't get to be barefoot anymore. I live on concrete and have no front lawn to run through a sprinkler on.
There are bugs trying to crawl in my bum crack.
There are moments when I wish the world would just stop. Freeze. All except me and the wind blowing the leaves of the tree. I think that would be very beautiful. I'd walk around to all the people and introduce myself to their lifeless forms. I'd put them in provocative poses so that when the life came back they could have a good, confused laugh and feel akward and uncomfortable around each other from then on, as I do now with everyone else.
[skips a bunch of really private things]
Oh how I wish I could capture these moments. I want to be able to pass on the green of the leaves when the fading sun shines on them. The feeling of the cool and gentle breeze as it makes my hair dance infront of my eyes and tickle my nose. The happy, carefree chatter of the people walking by and the almost lonely sound of the scrape of their shoes on the pavement. The rough texture of the bark with the bubbily moss growing on it. I really wish I never had to leave these moments. Leave nature. I hate the stress of ... fake life. I almost said "Real life" but nature, This, is real life. This is what it is.
ps. I just got scared by, and scared, a squirrel. We both jumped.
I feel like I should write more, like about the wedding with my dad, Janko ,my G2 test... But why ruin this?
I think I'm going to go to Harris.
8 something pm."
This is what I wrote in mine today.
"June 6/05 807pm
The first sip of tea is always so shockingly hot. I try to prepare myself but still jump back as it burns my tongue and lips.
I'm sitting in Victoria Park under a tree close to Wellington and Central. It's a nice spot, enough people in view to watch and observe, yet blocked out from the majority of the park to feel like I have some privacy. I wish I could be one of the kids who come with a bunch of my friends and play frisbee barefoot, and then break while one of us plays guitar and we drink tea and eat trailmix.
I want to be barefoot. There's something so innocent and free about not having shoes or socks on and just letting the blades of grass sprout up between your toes. I don't get to be barefoot anymore. I live on concrete and have no front lawn to run through a sprinkler on.
There are bugs trying to crawl in my bum crack.
There are moments when I wish the world would just stop. Freeze. All except me and the wind blowing the leaves of the tree. I think that would be very beautiful. I'd walk around to all the people and introduce myself to their lifeless forms. I'd put them in provocative poses so that when the life came back they could have a good, confused laugh and feel akward and uncomfortable around each other from then on, as I do now with everyone else.
[skips a bunch of really private things]
Oh how I wish I could capture these moments. I want to be able to pass on the green of the leaves when the fading sun shines on them. The feeling of the cool and gentle breeze as it makes my hair dance infront of my eyes and tickle my nose. The happy, carefree chatter of the people walking by and the almost lonely sound of the scrape of their shoes on the pavement. The rough texture of the bark with the bubbily moss growing on it. I really wish I never had to leave these moments. Leave nature. I hate the stress of ... fake life. I almost said "Real life" but nature, This, is real life. This is what it is.
ps. I just got scared by, and scared, a squirrel. We both jumped.
I feel like I should write more, like about the wedding with my dad, Janko ,my G2 test... But why ruin this?
I think I'm going to go to Harris.
8 something pm."