July 24, 2003

• yes, this week has been a doozy from finding that box o' stuff. found something new in it again last night. a letter from a highschool bud. i had always wondered why the friend situation seemed sparse during the summer. obviously my step father and/or mother were screening and tossing out all the letters that came to me. i know this because i found a letter, actually s. found it, in the box. i never got this letter while i lived in that house. i just wrote the person back...about 14 years late, but shit, you know?! for all i know, they dead now. i don't have my yearbooks, so i can't look the person up. here's the letter i responded back to:

  
  

  (Death),
  Hey Sweety, How is your summer so far. I hope good. Well are you and your mom getting along? I hope so. Well me and my mom are doing a little better than we were before, but she still bothers me. She has not been in my room since school was out. Well reason i didn't go to school thurs. + fri. is because i might want to quit. Well, (Death), I really don't know you all that well but I think you are a real nice girl. I would like to know a little more about you. (like what all kind of stuff you've been through). I would really like to talk to you some more. If you don't mind, please call me and we can talk about anything you want. remember: I am an understanding person. Nothing will go pass me. Well, I guess I will go for now. Call me whenever you want to. I will talk anytime. Please write back. Love ya, Tony

  
  

  they went on to leave a phone number and address.

  
  

  mr. man also found an old poem i wrote. i just listened to sean recite it in his mocking goth voice. (it was very angsty and probably devoted to an ex-fiance and all the disappearances) but actually he said it was really good!

  
  

  
  

  
  I've done it again
  and, as always, I end
  up with a malicious grin.
  The plan starts off unknown
  but of course, in the end
  I finish up alone again.
  The habit to be deceitful
  and the will to carry on.
  is fueled by the dreadful greed.
  The keeper of hearts is my job
  and evil renders as my name.
  His heart I did mean to break
  In my ways I am bent
  and now I do his heart the same
  everything so silent.
  With his feelings, he can not cope
  but alone, around this place, he does mope.
  does not know which he'll execute
  When in doubt my hands reach to grip
  and hidden in my innocence,
  is the last of his essence.
  To all i dedicate this poem
  and tell to stay from me away.
  or you too,
  shall
  waste
  away...
  in
  decay

  
  

  I was just getting heart-broken left and right back then. i am so glad things have the opportunity to be better now-a-days that my mail is not screened and that people are now usually straight forward with what they want from me. I'm not a match maker anymore ('keeper of hearts is my job'). I was so concerned about everyone else back then, helping them, there was no time for me to think straight. there was no time to figure out who i was. after i moved out of my family house, i stopped writing poetry. when i left the house and most of my stuff, i lost all that poetry. ... i hope one day i get bit by a poetry bug again.

  
  

  it seems the resurgence of this stuff is changing me again as a person. i'm slowly realizing that i don't need to be like i am because my history is actually different than i knew it. it's like having amnesia, i guess. i am starting to see the person i was meant to be. bright, friendly, passionate, timely. maybe i'm still all that, but the encouragement is different.

  
  

  i almost feel like i just got out of highschool all over again. slumber party at my house!

  • 10:48 am
  • 12 Comments