February 1st: I am a simple variable in your experiment of life.
February 2nd: Contrary to your belief, I am capable.
February 2nd: The muscles in my hand, arm, and fingers simultaneously work together to create a story. Each letter has a meaning and word a purpose. I write to explain myself. To show people by my examples and introspective thoughts who I am. In turn answering the question of what has shaped me into the person I am today. My words paint a picture of my spirit and soul. Of good and evil and from start to finish, I will record every aspect of my forever changing ideas and life itself. Every smile and every tear, every cut and every ****, each day will be documented.  
February 3rd: We can never expect ourselves to accept the big differences between others, if we can’t accept the little differences of ourselves.
February 3rd: I’ve come to realize that we’re all ******. Good or evil, our fate is universal. The hands we eat, ****, and fornicate with has no impact on where our souls will rest.

January 16th: I am running in circles.
January 17th: Reality is just a figment of one's vivid imagination.
January 18th: The exit of the co2 from my lungs, to my mouth, and then the atmosphere. Expand and contract my brain. Expanding is new found knowledge and contracting is the loss of knowledge. Thus, my intelegence is relative to the amount of gasses in my brain.
January 19th: Secretly, you control me.
January 20th: Over the next two hours, you slowly drift back to reality. The once sea bound boat is approaching land and, with each passing wave, you are coming closer to sobriety.
January 21st: What is this love you speak of?  
January 22nd: A numbing sensation has paralyzed my arms. I can feel a million little creatures with in me. While they crawl beneath my skin, they leave their path of serenity. The ecstasy, that races to my heart. To touch my blood with a soft kiss and slowly warm my frozen body.
January 23rd: We will be forever hoping, forever wishing, and forever praying to find love. A feeling our primitive minds will never understand. In this age love will never be found because the passion that created us, has left this world.  
January 24th: Sometimes I feel like:
I am exiled by my own people, searching for another lost soul in this desecrated world. The only remnants I have of people are the skeletons of wanderers from long ago. Each lonely corpse I see I become more and more afraid. In fear, I run through this land of broken dreams. I am running in circles. I am lost. Back to where I began my quest I realize this land is hell and I am alone. In time I will soon become another lost soul. My desire to leave this place motivates me to keep walking. This keeps me sane. In the distance I see a figure shinning through my haze of hopelessness. Is this a hallucination? Or am I not alone in this world?
January 25th: Sights are sounds and sounds are sights.
January 26th: I am falling to apart trying to fix your broken heart.
January 27th: **** and be ******.
January 27th: The warmth of a fire can warm the coldest of hearts.
January 28th: In the rain, I carry no disguises.
January 29th - January 31st: I am relapsing

Love is a feeling.
Feeling is electric.
We are feeling in skin.
Electricity running
through
a
circuit board
switch to switch
***** to *****.
Break the circuit
Break the cycle.
It's true that the
electricity continues to exist.
It's also true that it is existing in another way.

Sorry you're a worn out bigot.
I Guess I'll see you when I'm six feet under
or six states South.
We can pretend we're family then
=] .


There are two things I will never comprehend.

1. Why people have to have a bewildered reaction upon finding out someone in their life is gay.
Gay people exist and we're not urban legends.

2. Why people feel the need to call gay guys *******, we know what we are. If you're going to make a quick jab at me, tell me something I don't already know. *******.

Ignorance, fear, hatred and differences are what's ******* up the world.

You can say that everything is fine and that it's just a phase I'm in or even on a larger scale you can say that the blatantly ignored ******* hatred doesn't exist.

** Excuses don't explain anything. I know you have trouble sleeping at night, if I was evil, I would have the same problem.


I use to write for my high school newspaper, but after one year, I got kicked off for writing editorials like this.

Love is the only high you can get without calling a dealer.
The dream, hope or feeling with the power to manifest itself into our reality.
When the time is right,
of course.
Requiring no effort.
Magic just happens.
Without any explanation.
One day you'll wake up alive again and you will get it.
**** just get's better, such as life.
Love is blind.
People are blind,
we just think we can see.
Gaze through the blind man's eyes and learn the art of recognition.
Recognize every purity and impurity.
Love always conquers lust.
Just sometimes, it's a close call.

Taken from my daily journal in my senior year.
The first part is in Forget me not, even in my final days.


January 1st: The new year will bring many failures and many triumphs. The level of these battles is unknown
January 2nd: I will shed my skin and be free of all my worries.
January 3rd: The warmth of the sun is your distant touch.
January 4th: To rid yourself of the evil people who poison your mind with their sharp words and snake like tongues.
January 5th: I am not God. I am sorry, I can not save you.
January 6th: She was the ocean on a calm summer's night. The tides which were her thoughts came to her slowly, but never failed to come.
January 7th: I am only worried when you're around me.
January 8th: My life sentence is almost over.
January 9Th: To my loved ones,
I am what you want me to be
When you want to be sad
I will be
When you want me to be mad
I will be
I will only be lonely
If you leave me
January 10th: You can not get to me if I am sleeping.
January 11th: To anyone who has ever hurt me,
Thank you for helping me become the man I am today.
Thank you for every feeling
Every tear
And every scar
You gave me.
January 12th: We are all complex animals, nothing more and nothing less.

February 2nd: Dire was my day, every move I made was seen as a mistake.Malice my good intentions, I’ve been labeled as a hurtful, evil, and ugly man. Believed to be a demon, from the pits of hell; I am feared by all and eluded like a disease.
        
February 3rd: My time is spent in isolation. Never desiccated are the tears that endlessly flow down my wrecked up face. My screaming is unheard. Nothing is heard in this room, I am alone.
        
February 4th: Blood encrusts my massacred body, a true painting of affliction. I have run out of tears. Crying is now a more complex process, involving the bitter sweet touch of a blade.
        
February 5th: Exile is slowly beginning to **** me. The hands of time have firmly grabbed my neck and with each passing hour its grip grows stronger.