A dream. A romance. A love. In Words. I think you prefer when the world "together" means not "a million," but just two.

  Poems to Louis


I was one of the insatiables. The ones you'd always find sitting closest to the screen. Why do we sit so close? Maybe it was because we wanted to receive the images first. When they were still new, still fresh. Before they cleared the hurdles of the rows behind us. Before they'd been relayed back from row to row, spectator to spectator; until worn out, secondhand, the size of a postage stamp, it returned to the projectionist's cabin. Maybe, too, the screen was really a screen. It screened us... from the world.


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Maybe now it's time to recognize that there is no such thing as love for me in this world ...

I finally have to gibe up this thought.
Anyway, it feels like there will never be anyone good enough - no one who will be able to live my dreams about love and life with me. No one who will ever truly love me and - what freaks me out the most - no one who I'll ever truly love ...

Maybe it's meant for me to be alone forever ...
4.10.07 03:03


Scared and down ...

I'm scared and I feel down. Let down. Just down.

It feels so familiar, that scares me. I don't want it to start again.
But I'm on my own, now.

I feel like I could cry. And maybe I should, maybe it'd make me feel better ...
16.10.07 01:24


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