i hate and love and fear when other peoples' diaries set me off, all at the same time. and maybe sometime soon when i'm at home i'll write in this about everything that started with fifth grade and accelerated in tenth grade, about that rubber band i snapped against my porcelain wrist every time i felt hungry, about giving jenny my lunch money every day, about telling my mom i'd had a big lunch to get out of dinner. about loving myself more when i was less. it was a thankless love, though. i'll never really have it.

i'm saying 'was'. like it stopped.

i don't know what i'm saying. nevermind.

past future

last five entries:
blisters and bruises - 03.18.08
dorsey - 03.13.07
finding peace - 02.02.07
unintentional clean slate - 09.11.06
natural born cyborg - 06.23.06