May 20

I thought about her sky blue eyes, and how any color made them jump out. I thought about the look she always gave me, how I knew it was flirtatious the first time I saw it, and how I got used to it, but how each time it made me feel like she was interested. I thought about lying on my back, and her lying in between my legs. I thought about running my hands down her sides, and about her ass, digging my hands in. I thought about how she'd inhale sharply at that point, like all girls do, and how she'd grab my shirt a little bit tighter.

I thought about lust.
I thought about love.

I thought about becoming one with another person.
And I thought about becoming one with myself.

These thoughts scared me.

May 19

I think about all the bad that's happened to me, and I can't help but see little pieces of good scattered here and there. Unfortunately, they're just little pieces of good. There was one big piece, or maybe even a few, but people like to twist good things into bad things, and bad things begin to seem like they're okay. Shit's twisted, man.

May 14

Motivation is hard to come by these days. Persistent rain, constant schoolwork and no girlfriend to talk to or see all point me towards the snug comfort of my bed. Keep in mind that comfort is the enemy of achievement.

But when I'm a month from the end of school, is attempting to achieve anything worth the effort? I'll ponder this as I lie in bed.

May 7

Sometimes you just gotta write about it. Sometimes that's a poem, or an essay, or a story where you weave your problems into the characters, and hope they can find a way out. Sometimes it's a letter, that you don't write a "dear ___" or a "sincerely, ___" on, because you have no intention of ever sending it. If you're writing a letter to no one, it's because someone needs to hear, and that someone might be a different part of yourself.

Maybe when we write, we're giving lines to the one character in our story we can control, so that maybe they can find a way out.

April 25

Last night I watched
As the words tumbled down
From your hesitant lips
Oh, what a sound

They danced and they dropped
Not to the floor
But to my ready ears
A sound for the sore

They whispered
Quietly
Moving things
Inside of me

g-f#-e-d-b-b
g-f#-e-b
g-f#-e-d-b-b
g-f#-e-d

fifths on c, c+b, a, g

g-g-a-b-a-g-e-e
g-g-a-b-g-d+g
g-g-a-b-a-g-e-e
g-a-b-d

fifths on c, c+b, a, g

March 28

It's been a while since we've kissed. Not that we haven't been together and in a situation where we could, but just that it hasn't been there. Is that on me? I sure hope not. Is it on her? I think it might be. But if it's something she's feeling, why does she feel it? Is it a lack of affection? Is it a constant bad mood? Have I done something she won't tell me? Lord knows I mess up a time or ten but she's usually quick enough to point it out. Why girls like to hold something against boys without telling them is beyond me. It isn't productive for the relationship at all. All it does is create inner pain and resentment for her, and oblivious bliss for him, which isn't helpful. Bitches, man.

Things are looking up, though. I hope.

March 11, 10:2

I remember the first time she told me she loved me. It was over the phone. She was reading me a letter she wrote to me. I didn't say I loved her back because I didn't know if I did. She told me later my silent reply hurt her. If I was there with her in person, I'd have kissed her, or hugged her, or held her hand or made eye contact with her or something. But telephones are for talking, and I didn't know what to say.

So I did my best to console her, which isn't easy for someone who can't find any decent word to say and has to let her hang up on me in silence. I'd have consoled her with a hug, or a kiss, or a hand wrapped around hers, but she was not there. She was in her house, and I was in mine. And that was painful for me to hear.