Thursday, May 05, 2005 // 1:15 AM

what was lost of sunday's post:

i am being pathetic about you, and i can stop it. i can stop it. but i am pathetic, it is taking. a lot out of me to convince myself of the need to exhume you from my mind. i have written a lot about you, a lot that has remained lucid, a lot that i think i might still understand after all this time has passed. you are perhaps the first one to have been lucid in my life, it is killing me. to think about you.

lit wing on friday was interesting. i think i liked that there were so few of us, things just feel less. ostentatious. i think it made me realise that i havent written in a long time, and i miss it. i miss it, i am in love with myself. the quality of work produced is secondary, of close to no importance, how i do love the sound of pencil on paper, how fascinating it has been to reread my work, of late, retread steps taken in a recent past, and yet already completely forgotten. i am sad at how i am being lost, my footsteps are being casually erased. i had a life that i lived in a half-heartedly passionate manner, i had dreams that i would have fought for, fiercely! i have had violence and i have had insanity and i have had that burst of enlightenment! dont tell me these things are being oblierated, dont tell me. they can be forgotten. i wont hear of it, i am too romantic.