26 september 1999 | archive | forward

he told me i knew him, but i wasn't so sure, anymore.

i could tell him anything, and i did. i told him things i hadn't told anyone, ever. i spilled feelings i had kept stored and sealed so tightly in a jar. i left myself open, my arms wide, and my ears, eyes and heart. i would be there, because i knew he would, too. there was never any doubt.

but, then, everything was off-balance. nothing felt right. there were no more secrets. no feelings. no open doors. it was all doubt, and frustration, and bitterness, and fear. and when we talked, god, he seemed so far away. and when we didn't talk, i was so afraid he'd go away for good.

and, really, i didn't expect anything from him. i just missed him. i just missed my dear friend. and i wanted him back.

this. of course. (as if you couldn't figure that one out.)

it's so infantile, really, but i don't want to call her back. not after she took this long to call me.

brown pants that don't look like brown pants.

"oh, this is so the scene." -- at this too-cool-for-me L.A. art festival.

i got the same fortune-cookie fortune two nights in a row. is this a sign?