Can I run away? I’ve done it before and things ended up ok. I want to cry. Haha. There’s no good reason, though. And I’d probably regret it. Ho ho.
I want to make more music. One day a week isn’t enough.
August, 2001
16
Aug 01
Thursday:
I want to give up.
I can’t go on like this. I want to drop everything and run and hide. I don’t care why or how. I just don’t want to be here right now thinking about this.
And where can I go? I’m stuck. Can I walk outside? Sure, I could, but where would I go? Everywhere I go, it chases me. My captor. My enemy. My love.
11
Aug 01
Saturday:
swimming smiles, floating in the infinite distance, they scream a word, something like my name, but not quite so exact, but it still makes me turn to look and I can’t quite remember later what I see, but I know I can call it irony.
11
Aug 01
Saturday:
I run as fast as I can and leap from the edge of a mountain, flapping my arms equipped with false wings and I fly for a moment and see the most wonderous things, and as I start to fall I don’t regret a thing.
These dreams I look to to guide me through my life hold something close to magic.
