My work here is done,
If you're out there, this journal does not do justice.
I realized I liked you when I kissed you.
I realized I cared for you when I burned you with a glue gun.
I realized I adored you when I saw you skate.
And now that we've been apart so long, I realize I might love you.
I don't want to be YOU.
You don't know it all.
Wait till I come,
Wait till I try to change YOU.
What will become of YOU.
Your lust and thirst.
replaced by barren deserts
replaced by dead leaves
replaced by everything I want YOU to be.
I don't understand her! She's awesome, and I understand how she thinks, just not the thoughts themselves! And I ask waaay too many questions. God, we need couples therapy already!
Where do I start?
The real question is where do I fit in? Everybody seems to have a niecly-cut niche, a group of friends, an obsession. I'm just not sure what I am supposed to be. Sometimes I'm too nerdy, and sometimes too stupid. And usually not funny, except for those 'rarities' where I'm being offensive.
It seems so dramatic and wierd and akward to make such a big fuss over something so trivial, so unimportant in the grand scheme of things.