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I’ve worried about my sexuality since I was in seventh grade… that was eight years ago. I just realized this. One of the reasons I haven’t come out yet is the thought, “how can I be sure?” and “what if it changes?” And, um, I just realized how unlikely that is. So, um, I feel kind of silly. And I guess I might come out to some more people now.

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* warm fuzzies *

One of my good friends who’s been single all her life is starting a relationship with one of my old guy friends from high school. They are so ADORABLE together. Every time I see them I have a hard time holding in girly squeals of delight.

She’s 20, never dated before. It’s about time some guy realized how amazing she is!

Other than this, my week is going to be pretty ugly. But I keep thinking of those two and smiling…

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life's conspiracy theories

So, I spent this weekend with:

1) The First Love (who I am not quite over)
2) The Current Crush
3) The Current Crush’s new Significant Other
4) The Boyfriend (mine)

All in the same room, at the same time, and the only thing they had in common was me.

It was EPIC.

How can one person be messed up in so many ways?

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Adam & Eve

Once I was Adam
just because that was the only way she could fit me into a poem
and I still felt famous even though I’m really a girl.
I guess that’s why I smile when she says I love you
or makes a reference to the stars,
because I don’t like crying,
and at least I am someone.

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It never ends!

Last night I watched a 136-minute romantic drama squished between two girls on a couch… one of whom was Marie. During the sad parts, she’d pat my head or my shoulder to comfort me, and once she offered me her shoulder, so I laid my head there and cuddled for a while. It was wonderful. I have been in a horrible mood ever since.

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Okay so one of my friends from back in ninth grade JUST GOT ENGAGED.
I don't know how to process this information.
Engaged? Really??? She is almost EXACTLY MY AGE.
I feel... old...

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Some people use the word primitive
but that reminds me of a song
by a band my dad likes
and I do not.
This is unfortunate because primitive would be a good word
for what I feel when I stand in the cold
and try to take in the blackness out there
which is impossible really, because
there are stars
and I never did get the Tao Te Ching anyway

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lazy days are the nicest days. . . sometimes

I said something dumb today, and my friend justified it by saying I was 2% blonde.

This is news to me.

Apparently, I have unexplainable blonde highlights in the hair just behind my ears. The rest is orange. I am surprised I haven’t noticed this before.

. . .

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If you are a fencer. . .

. . . please add this to the list of things not to say to the bi chick who has a crush on you:

“Kelsey stabbed me in the boob three times yesterday . . . look!”

Do you come to Oasis mainly for the journals, or the forums?

57% (8 votes)
0% (0 votes)
Both equally
43% (6 votes)
Total votes: 14
wild-blue-yonder's picture


The picture of the two of them so young
in a place they’ve since forgotten
still makes sense even though there is something missing from his blood
and we have to clean our hands every time we touch the spoons.
When a story in the paper is contained in a living room
with cats under the table and cherries in a blue bowl,
it’s easy to smile about other things
and wear bright sweaters

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okaaaaay . . .

This is interesting.

People from the Westborough Baptist Church are flying in from Kansas to protest at our school’s production of “The Laramine Projects,” a series of monologues put on by the GSA relating to the Matthew Shepard tragedy. I think this is absolutely ridiculous. I mean, really?

Their website is godhatesfags.com. I am not even kidding.

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10:27 on a monday night

I am confused.

I read through all my journals and I’m like, fuck.

What is wrong with me.

. . . . .

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First your jacket.
More like a flowing dress it brushed your ankles
amazing me that I could feel the softness from so far away.
Then the footsteps:
that a living soul was inside the sketch of you.
At last the iridescent freckles sprinkled, glittering,
on the curve of your face under your eyes
whose color I could not quite catch.

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The impossible has come back to haunt me.

My high school sweetheart. Even after all those years of sitting and waiting and wishing I don’t know what to do.

I never knew it then. At best the truth was just sad fantasies, back then. I had no idea it was real. Everything I wished for – her – I was so close to having, and I had no idea.

* Cue the irony. *

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