2002-08-10 - 2:12 a.m.
2002-08-10 - 2:12 a.m.
its easier for me to write when i dont think i am going to post it.
i think i am just going to write in haiku.
i have your pictures,
the colors are bright and blue.
fleeting memories.
eh, haiku. i dont feel like being poetic. there is also something inherently cheesy about counting syllables. one day i am going to publish a book of haiku and get rich. or maybe not.
summer on the beach. the waves sound nice. rhythmically speaking.
i'm at the bottom of ther ocean. it is dark, and quiet. and sandy!
this entry is really ADD.
i dont like reading what i write. it bothers me for some reason. so if you're reading this, enjoy it, because i don't.
i probably shouldnt wear short sleeves. only one person has ever asked what happened to my arm. i told him i fell over a fence and didnt get stitches when i should have.
its nice to say that every scar has a story, but i'd be lying if i said i remembered them.
i miss how things used to be. i should move away. maybe then things would be different.
or maybe not.
let's go to the beach. i know this place where there is a jetty that you can walk out on. i used to go there when i was little. its dark, so watch your step. i'll hold your hand. there is noone else around. you can see all the stars from here. in the city, you can only see a few. maybe one day we can get a small house here and live here listening to the waves every night. did you bring your sweatshirt? you can wear mine. it smells like me.
we're eating ice cream, and you kiss me on the cheek.
that's all for now.