-older entries

january 29, 2003
 
no i feel like a big idiot. i mean now that i think about it, why would she read my journal? she is obviously not concerned with randall. she says the past day and a half, she is starting to miss me. i miss her everyday. i think she might actually (the past day and a half) put a face to her fuckup, but it wont last long. i feel so much pain. i feel so hurt, she doesnt know what she does to me. i cant be with someone who doesnt feel for me. i have learned this before, i am now being tested. my heart contracts into a small lil ball. it is rock hard. it is working on the inside but is developing an incasing so that nothing can get in that is not already part of me. what a divine process it is. it shows how truly conditional we are. "i love you, but i am taking it back now. well, as much as i can." humans are filth. i hate our systems. i hate our reactions. people can have some kind of control over smaller things like accidentally buying whole milk instead of skim. but when we get tried and pressed and squeezed, we swell up and become prideful, and we send the bad blood to the wound. the bad blood fixes the problem in an innefficient way. we are not god, we cannot say to the wound, "be new". but we are able to ask, and will have one day.

i write to her almost everyday now in this damn thing, cuz i have this as a vent. i think also cuz i don t know that she is reading and she could not be and i would not know that she is reading-- i write in hopes that she can read what i am saying, to read and understand what she is doing affects others.

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