Wanting A Rewind.
<< 5:16 p.m. - Sunday, Mar. 14, 2004 >>
Seven a.m.
The garbage truck beeps as it backs up
And I start my day thinking about what I've thrown away
Could I push rewind?
The credits traverse, signifying the end
But I missed the best part
Could we please go back to start?
Forgive my indecision

Then again, you're always first when no one's on your side
But then again, a day will come when I want off that ride

Eleven a.m.
By now you would think that I would be up
But my blinds shade the light of choices I've made
And what did I find?
--Incubus--

The paths we take are like snaking backwards rivers, tiny rivulets of water that diverge along uncommon boundaries. And where has all this gotten me? I cannot say no. I don�t want to disappoint. I don�t want to make uncomfortable. And yet I�m asking these serious questions of you and probing the silences. I keep secrets as best I can, but can I keep my own? I think not. Why can�t my book have a lock? Why can�t I hold the key?

And Reid says my writing is like Dada art, I make of random words what I will. I find ugliness and leave it in original form. Showcase what you see everyday. I don�t know. These days I dying with boredom from school. I�m straining and stretching my neck towards 3 o�clock on the 19th.

I never look back.