I want to resurrect this journal. I really do because it has so many memories in it and I want to "keep in touch." I'm not holding my breath though.

Kiss me again
and my heart will explode.
That's how much I love you.

I've died, I've pretended, I've swallowed the tears, I've beat my emotions to make them hide away.

Yes, yes, happiness comes and goes, but can't a person be generally happy? I am not that person. A realization. I've been thinking about my life. I have nothing to complain about, but there's an ever present dark cloud that marks me off the "generally happy" list. I guess you could say I was on that list up until age 16. Then the inevitable artist ( Read more... )

I remember the days of Witchbaby, glitter, magic, lots of writing and reading and inspiration, the ideal, but also a sadness that was only cushioned by my dreams and that tingly feeling inside of me that said, "Cheer up! Your future is bright ( Read more... )

I'm so incredibly lonely. Depressed. And I shouldn't be because I have a boyfriend, but he's so distant and insensitive. Always slipping through my fingers. Always dragging my bruised heart through the rocks. I'm dead with him and I'm dead without him.

I am so frustrated. SO FRUSTRATED!!! I can't even get a poem out, and I NEED a poem. I need a short story. I need something! I'm tired of scribbling notes, "researching," being inspired, but never getting any real writing done. What's going on here? I had more luck when I was struggling with that play back in college. Which reminds me...I should ( Read more... )

Saying goodbye to summer
is like saying goodbye
to an old heart.

I'm drinking coffee for the first time in many years and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Lately it seems as if everything I eat or drink bothers me in fear that I'm "putting on the pounds." I can feel things settling on my hips and in my little pooch of a stomach. For the most part I think I have a great, fit body, but it has changed. No doubt ( Read more... )

I've always thought it quite dangerous to meet your muse. I mean actually meet it. Touch it, talk to it, understand what it's thinking, because in the end the muse falls. It becomes like a fallen angel and all its bumps, bruises, scars etch their way into your mind and you can't concentrate on what once was perfect love ( Read more... )