laffinkid's Diaryland Diary

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want to dive into your ocean. is it raining with you?

and it's my turn pretty girl....

the suede leather fur lined hangs on the porch so surreal. hangings also to ward evil spirits away. they say the bells do it, the one's that hang on the bottom. and then for a split moment i panicked and thought that will only work if they're hung by all windows and doors. but then i snapped out.
am i really leaving? am i really going home? home. not home. do you know what i mean? is this happening for real.
I have dreams of bad things and not once of good with him. With my love. they're always bad. You don't love me, we'll part before we begin. there's a girl in some port waiting for you. just waiting for you, to take you away and into a universe of illegitimate children. pulling and scratching because you're away. you're away from me and it really just is to be expected of you boys when you're away a long time. never speak of it. what i don't know won't kill me. but god no. harsh, but i wouldn't hesitate to slit your throat. (it's how i roll.)
But then i read the letters and i remember the rarely spoken words, and i feel the touches. And I hope, for the dreams to be my subconcsious working itself out in my sleep.
the blues and the reds and the denims and cottons are tumbling like summersaulting children summer day. over over over again. after they stop it's packing time. which reminds me i have to check the weather.
a waterfall sprang to my eyes today. but this time calculus was the perpetrator. I couldn't believe my body. but when i found myself gasping for breath and release from this boggling new concept and impossible notes, the tears lept from behind my brick wall of emotion. they did not fall. instead it was shock. at myself.
Random Insertion: I feel like omar isn't even real anymore, but rather an enigma rooted in my psyche. i continue to think about him and wonder about him. not like before. not out of love. or lust. or confusion. just curiosity.
noah and I's last conversation was full of tapping and silence. he's changed and I feel it. but how much is the key. (how much) am i willing to set aside what i truly believe in my heart, and replace it with my love for him. sacrafice? i don't know. but it's hard knowing he is where he is. harder that i hate it. every second of it. good opporturnity..blahblah..great benefits..blahblah.
i thought i believed it. but it turns out i just hate it even more. and the stress of this trip has driven me to the last pivotal millimeters of concrete on that cliche bridge's edge.
i have learned that any person i meet from this point in my life on, who uses the word "scatterbrained" in self-description, shall be terminated instantaneously.
talk to me. like lovers do. walk with me. like lovers do.
can you dig it?

4:32 p.m. - 2004-10-06

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