a little bit of a resurrection
my life journal: cutmedown








beyond blank to joy


i wish i had the words to make it all alright. i think we all know how slow the healing process can be. why must i see in color when the truth is the matter? the only thing that i have to give are my words & what love i have left, if any; but somehow i don't think that will ever be good enough.

if i knew why i was a hypocrite, perhaps i wouldn't be one at all. the thought of my own death is not as comforting to me tonite, although i've not gained something to live for. i don't know whether to be ashamed or amused at the simple details that can make me so happy.

guilt for my happiness & the overwhelming fear that lights up the back of my mind like an inferno, the fear that everything is not going to be alright. enjoy it until the laughter shatters.


written on 2003-06-23 at 1:12 a.m.

she / lost