it was an old journal in the back seat of my car.
i never clean out my car.
it was us on a hill overlooking the city.
it was her reading memories i'd much rather forget.
it was me revealing an absent faith and a broken spirit.
it was how she listened so caringly.
it was how i thought my emotions untrustworthy.
it was taking joy in weakness.
freedom in knowing nothing.
the thrill of an adventure that has still not been revealed.
the stories she told me that seemed so profound.
the idea that my place may be to not have a place, but instead to forever be an observer of the human condition.
it was a wonderful night.
they were wonderful tears.
it was the most pleasant pain i have ever felt.
knowing that i still have a soul.
10:17 a.m. - 2004-12-20
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
I remember me. - 2014-10-17
The Paper - 2014-10-13
A Post About Not Doing Anything - 2014-10-12
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