NEWS FROM THE WHITE ROOM
5.03.2003
 
Pain and i sat and watched a movie tonight.
i like the weather tonight, but it's not MY kind of rain.

Well, probably not even Smurfie could tell you what BOTH of those meant... i guess i'm feeling cryptic.

i've been thinking a lot of Jen today, and i don't know why.

Jen
Do you share in my joys?
Are you smiling to see me falling in love with a wonderful girl?
Do your eyes fall downcast when i can't remember what the trick was to tying your shoes?
Or when it's hard for me to remember your face?
Do you cry for our memories when i remember you telling me your favorite color in the woodchips under the slides?
Can you dance with me while i'm asleep?
Tell me you're here with me.
Tell me you allways will be.
The man i am becoming will always have a twelve year old guide.
Reminding him
That he needs a sweatshirt when it's cold.
That he needs to remember how to listen.
That everyone deserves Courtesy.
You will never grow old for me, i will remember you always.
Smile for me, Sunshine.
The moon is Silver for you.

Courtesy.
5.01.2003
 
Well, today was a pretty normal day, mostly.
i had my presentation in speech class; which i got an A on, in spite of not preparing anything for it at all.
Hell, i didn't even know i HAD a speech to do until day before yestreday.
Then after Speech i ran into David and Ben, and we all went to chill with Lenny and Brian.
Ben had to go like right away, but David stayed with us until like 7, then i took him home.
Smurfie called me!! Twice!!
i was so happy!!
And i feel a lot better knowing what was occupying her mind.
God, it just seems like no matter how hard i try, i can't outrun what i did.
Easily the stupidest decision of my life to date.
i want to say i'm sorry, Sierra. Again.
i just feel like i can't ever say it enough.
i think about what i did, and i know the hurt i feel for you is nothing next to what it did to you.
i just want to forget about her, but it can't happen that wasily, i guess, can it?
Well, that's about enough of that, i suppose.
i love you so much,
i'm so glad you told me.
i hate the feeling that i'm not someone you can tell anything, no matter what, and it felt really good that you told me, despite what it was.
Thank you.
Well, a pretty good chill session with the guys, even though looking back, we didn't actually DO anything.
well, that's how it goes, i guess.
Knoll Poem! Coming soon!!

Courtesy.
4.28.2003
 
You are perhaps seven years old. You are awake now. You can hear the voices out the hall in the kitchen, even though the sliding door is drawn. You get up and pad out of the hallway, toward the door. There are two grownup voices there, behind the door. You know the voices, but you still can't recognize them. They're behind there and they're being frightening. They would say they're talking about grownup things, but even though you don't know the words, you can hear in the tones exactly what their hearts are telling each other. They're supposed to love each other. You know that from school. You know that from your friends. You know that from the way they act when you're around them. One of them has heard you now. There's a silence scarier than the yelling, and then the heavy footsteps over to the door. How strange it must be, to have noisy footsteps like that; can't they help it like you can? The door slides open, and you say the one wrong phrase you could say. It's what you want. It is also, unfortunately, the only one they are unprepared to deal with. It's the phrase that tells them every time you say it that they're arguing in futility. You can't know this, of course, and they both know that you can't be expected to, but it bites them so deeply all the same that they are suddenly as upset with you as with each other. Because before you said those damning nine words, they could cling to this hope that they had. Cling to this hope that you're still all a normal family. Cling to this hope that after the yelling, after the pain, the heightened state that makes the affection so much more real is just as good as the real thing. But having said them, you are now the doom-bringer in the guise of a child. You are the destroying angel with the face of a cherub from Boteccelli. So when you say "Why do you have to fight all the time?" The response comes sharp and fast as a punishing whip. "Stay in your room please." And "This isn't about you, darlin'." So you pad back to your room. You try to read your books, but the tears don't stop coming. You can't understand what you did, or why they're angry with you, with each other, and it hurts so badly. Flash forward to now, where you're standing in your bathroom, half-naked, clutching a pair of scissors in one hand, and all you can hear with your eyes squeezed shut with the water running from them anyway is the sound of your own voice, so different now, talking about someone you're sure can hear you across the miles. "i promised. i promised. i promised. i promised. i promised..."

Welcome to The White Room.

Courtesy.

4.27.2003
 
Saw both Smurfie and Scotty today!!
Yes, i had the day off, after racking yestreday, so off to the mall with friends!
It was a good day. All around, a good day.
Oh man, i swear, she gets prettier every time i see her.
Every time i'm around her, it's like falling in love with her again; i so love who she is.
But something about her has been bothering me.
It's something i can't quite put my finger on...
She seems unhappy about something, and i wish i knew what it was.
i want to be the person she can say anything to.
i don't want her to be afraid to tell me anything.
On a lighter note, Scotty seems to be doing well; except this smoking thing...
that's bugging me, but it's hardly my choice.
Well, time for resting.

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