"the roses she picked fall from her hand..." -pinback
<< 1:15 a.m. - Saturday, Oct. 05, 2002 >>
Saturday, Oct. 05, 2002 - 4:51 p.m.

It�s misting today. Droplets of rain that shower down from the sky into my eyes, leaving me squinting in the gray gloom. I�m not sad, no. Just reflective. I realized how wrong and close-minded I have been. I built up a reservoir of hate for a girl, and when something was wrong with the world, the problem was put toward this girl. I was so wrong. I was given tainted gossip and I swallowed it so readily. I am so embarrassed at myself.

I need to rethink who I am. Why I say the things I say. Nose w/o Freckles cried yesterday. She tried to talk without crying, as her face crumbled before our eyes. What could I say? She was sobbing. Salty tears ran down our cheeks just watching her. The room was filled with melancholy, choked with makeshift memories of ones passed. The Painter and I hugged her tightly, stayed with her throughout, but nothing could make up for what she had lost.

I knew then, I had never known pain, nothing close to this. Both our (Nose w/o Freckles & I) aunts died this year, and we were sad, but I cried for a day and she�s been crying for months. I thought I knew sadness, desolation, and emptiness. I know nothing. I was vain, proud of my own self-destruction from sophomore year.

I am cruel and heartless. I was so sad that I wanted to laugh hysterically. Trying to save myself from the sin of letting out an emotion. I was not able to. Creaky timeworn tears slid down my face and into my �mane� of hair.

We talked for so long. Spurred by my relentless and self-degrading observations in this journal. They wanted to hear what I had to say. It was good, because I�m never able to say it aloud. So now they know, and they understand. I thought they all thought like Animal Lover, who is deathly afraid of change. I am comforted. I am alive. I am breathing. The world turns without me and I am fine with that.

diosa de la luna