It's been a strange week.
It's strange to feel every emotion
that human beings feel,
all at once.
I've decided to slow down,
smile,
and enjoy all of the great
things coming my way,
and all of the great things
that are coming to an end.

I'm anxious to see what life
has in store for me.

I remember why I used
to come here every day
after class when I went to College.
It's quiet.
The kind of quiet where even
breathing makes too much noise
compared.
But today I am here
because I have nowhere else to be.
I'm sitting in my car writing this,
and a skinny man in white shorts
jogs past.
I know he's here for the same reason
I am.
Just a little time off.

If you don't mind,
I'd like to join you by
your side.

-Tim Burton

I can't say I remember the first
time we met.
Because we were both just passing
through.
But I do remember the first
time I remembered you.
It was a week before my 18th
birthday and we all jammed into
my sisters tiny 4 door
Corsica.
It was you, me, my sister,
Josh and Cameryn.
We made these plans the day before.
I was sitting in the middle,
in the back seat and you were
on my left.
You were so opposite of what
everyone said you were.
You were funny, but reserved,
we kept sharing cigarettes,
and you'd throw the butts
out of the window.
You were smoking L&M;
Turkish blend.
I, of course, Camels.
You and josh opened the back doors,
as the car was moving and
pretended you were going
to fall out.
You were crazy.
And exciting.
We went to the head shop in
Oxford and you made little jokes
at me because I wasn't old enough
yet to look at the bowls.
You bought some cigars and
a wooden pipe
and started smoking from both.
We all had ice cream at the UDF,
before we headed back,
passing packed bowls back and forth
around the car.
That was the first time I felt
that feeling around you.
That day.
When we took you home that night,
all I wanted to do was gush to
my sister about how great you were.
But I didn't.
I just couldn't stop telling
myself instead.

There's a feeling in the air
tonight.
It's electric.
Dangerous.
Intoxicating.
Makes me want to hop
in the passenger seat of his car,
and drink and smoke with all the windows down.
Makes me feel unpredictable.
Makes me feel like living.

I read something somewhere
that said; God takes unnecessary
people out of your life,
so as not to hinder your path.
But I don't think he was the one
that made us the way we are today.
In fact, if anything he gave me so
many chances.
I made mistakes, and so did he.
But God was definitely not involved.

He wouldn't have been able
to keep up with us.

There's a spot on the right side
of my forehead,
that I hate looking at.
It happened before my eyes,
before my hands could see
what kind of chaos they created.
If you walked through the
tiny door in the deepest part
of my brain,
ya know,
the door that is inconceivably
small,
you would hear me
begging my hands to not
let me be bald.

I saw a rainbow on my way
home tonight.
I can't think of a better way to end
such an important day for love.
Equality matters.
It felt good to come home
to my house in a new country
where love is being celebrated.
My heart is glowing for all of those that have fought so hard for the right
to happiness.
And for my brother.
This one is for him.

I have begun to wonder if
I will ever be able to share my
writing with the person that
I am dating.
It's where I'm most vulnerable,
most selfish,
I talk about things that might
upset the person I'm with.
But that's me.
So how am I supposed to accept
that some people may never accept
my past and everything that I am.

Good night sunshine,
I always hope to see you
in the mornings.

I've been thinking about you
a lot lately.
Daisy day dreaming about what
our life could be like.
Long nights spent talking and laughing,
shared with good ****,
and drinks.
But most of all, happiness.
A n d
    Y     o  u.
a n   d
YOU!

The rain finally came,
and cooled everything off.
I now look forward to it
because I know that it means
I will sleep very well.
The fan blows on me,
standing beside the bed,
with the window open behind it.
Rain air.
Delicious.
Sleep is working his way
up to my eyes;
they are wanting to close.
So, I will sleep,
and it will storm.

I sit here on my bed,
in my hot room,
with a 1.5 liter bottle of wine
beside me.
Im going to drink the rest,
in hopes of sleep,
and because the bottle is cold
against my legs.
Here I am.
In my natural habitat,
surrounded by uncomfortable
feelings and anger.
Charles Bukowski lays open
in front of me,
but I've already read it.
Besides I am supposed to be
asleep right now.
I won't even tell you how early
I have to be awake.
It just sounds pathetic.

I'm not depressed, just over it.
And I'm okay with that.

I don't think I will ever
lose that wil e coyote feeling.
Always on the chase for things
that I want,
a spontaneous urge to run away,
or live in destruction.
I blame this on my age,
but sometimes I wonder if
it's just who I am.

On my way to work
I stopped by the Speedway to
get gas.
I pulled up to the pump next
to a pick up truck,
that was missing the back completely.
On my way out of the gas station
I recognized the guys who were waiting on their friend.
After walking around the back
of my car after pumping gas,
the guy on the passenger side
had the window down.
He smiled and said,
"We're going wheelin'"
I laughed and said, "Have fun."
He said, "you too."
I told him I'm going to work,
and he laughed a little.
He waved at me as I pulled away,
and I did too.
I left feeling happy,
to have such a nice, positive
interaction with someone I
once sat in high school classes with.
Good vibes.

I decided to put sticky notes
with positive words written on them,
up beside my bed.
In hopes that encouragement can
help me.
I've been stuck inside a negative
purgatory for days,
maybe even weeks,
and I'm done with that.
Or I want to be.
I've done cried,
pulled out almost all of my hair,
let myself be angry,
and then I ran out of complaints.
If I want a positive life,
I have to think positive thoughts.

Please, wish me good luck.

You were so
Frankenstein
for me
in the way
that it felt
like I was slowly
piecing together
parts of myself
that I never would've
found if it hadn't
been for you.
Because being
with you wasn't
human.
It was a diabolical plan
for heartbreak
that had been set into
motion on the day
that each of us had been
born.

It isn't okay to leave me where
you left me.
Act like I didn't care.
To disappear without a word,
leave me in the dark,
and stranded in a town full of people that always leaves me feeling lonely.
That was the last time I will ever get my heart broken by you again.
The last time I let you impact me.
Shake me. Change me.
If you don't want to talk,
then let's never talk again.
I want these to be the last words I ever write about your miserable existence.
You weren't the same anyways.
I didn't change. You did.
It's easy to hate you,
so that's what I'll do.
Because loving you is a waste of a dreamer's time.

Why does ***** go hand in hand
with that ache in the pit of your
stomach.
It's like it's filling up
the empty space someone left
there.
I guess I just feel sick
because I don't understand
what happened.
What did I do?

I've had this whole other life
without you in it for so long now,
which is something I once thought
I could never do.
But I missed you.
I don't blame you for the silence
that fell between us for over 365 days.
I don't think I'd want to talk to me either.
I never thought about how you must feel.
I guess it's because I never knew how you felt, about me.
What a strange time in our lives huh?
Now, it feels like nothing but a really really good dream.
I want you to be happy,
because I am.
Not all the time, but happiness
usually seems to find me.
And yes, he is a big part of that.
I know I will be heartbroken and sick
all over again when some girl blows through the doors and is everything you once thought I was,
but I have no right.
I guess I just want it all.
But, I've still never come up with the right words that would properly express how deeply sorry I will be for the rest of my time.

I want to call him
and tell him that I wish
he was here,
to cuddle me to sleep
and tell me that everything is
going to be fine.
Tomorrow and the day after that.
I want to tell him that I can't
stop pulling out my hair,
and that my anxiety is sky rocketing.
I want to tell him that I miss him
and I love you.
But I won't.
Because I have to try to go to
sleep on my own.

I wish I could wake up and
feel happy.
I'm so tired of the same old thing.
Wake up, go to work,
get off work,
go to sleep.
Repeat.
Where's the adventure,
the fun.
Why don't I live every moment,
in a state of who cares,
this will be over soon.
I think I'm going to do mushrooms
tonight after work.
Maybe I need this right now.
Maybe that's why he gave them
to me.
Or maybe he loves me.
Why does every passing minute
feel like some sort of sentence and
I'm just waiting for it to be over.
I have to get a new job.
I have to find happiness while
I'm still young,
or someday I'll be 52 and
everything that I used to
think was magic,
will be gone.

The only reason I'm able
to stand watching golf
is because I have a glass
of wine between my legs.
I've thought about turning on
the radio,
but that requires getting up.
Today,
he told me he got me something.
A late birthday present.
I wish I could type in a smile.
I have people in my life
that care about me for the first
time in a long time.
Maybe my twenties won't be so
bad after all.