Isn't it awkward? I don't understand why people don't feel important... I try so hard to show them how much they mean to me, and I get treated like crap; they even get incensed. I'm only trying to help, only trying to show my care and love, only trying to handle the stress of the already difficult situations which present themselves at the most inopportune times. I'm sorry that I can't control every situation; I wish that I could, for then, I would be able to fix them. I'm going to rectify what I can, and try to change things that aren't how they need to be. I love you; all of you; especially you.

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"I don't have all the answers; all I know is what you've shown, and I'm waiting for the moment, when you make your mysteries known." - Owens.

I've gone bonkers -- nuts -- crazy... what the heck was I thinking! how can I possibly be gay... DUH! BECAUSE I JUST AM! I'm sick of this crap from people! It's not something I can change -- it's not something that I even want to change: I'm happy the way I am. I'm in love with a great guy, and I would never give him up -- not for anything. I'd die for him in an instant. I hope he knows that. :) I can't live a day without him. It'd be like taking away my air, if he were gone. I love him.

So, I'm totally gay, and I love it. Gotta problem with that? if so, then you gotta problem with me.

A lonely forest loses its trees Whack. Whack. Silence. Then only few remained. in the midst of that dispicable place, their rested a sour-looking, gnarly old tree. Leaves all old and yellow with silver spots, BROWN specks across them. "Wretched Tree if you ask me," said some idle passerby, stopped long enough to catch his breath. The Great Tree was baggered and defaced, but still, it remained firm. Passing by, the simple forest ceased to exist; eclipsed by frost and gout in the sap-bloodied ground. Over. Over. Drinking the only moisture from that tinctured sod; Impailing himself, that Tree folding his broken branches into his aching wounds...

The way brown is pronounced stops my face contracting in a sliding motion, and for all those who know me makes speaking to me surreal experience. It’s thick and makes me think of your name and the way my lips make the sounds, it makes me think of dark bruises.

Simple things make little sense. For example why does time progress? What if it actually regresses? It makes sense; we waste time, and yet we do not understand that the amount of available time is shrinking (according to my interpretation of the Law of Entropy).