2000
March 25, 2000
August 6, 2000
Undated
2001
2003
February 10, 2003
February 10, 2003 (Part 2)
February 11, 2003
February 13, 2003
February 14, 2003
February 19, 2003
February 20, 2003
February 23, 2003
February 25, 2003
March 7, 2003
March 9, 2003
March 10, 2003
It looks like 5 years of indifference and lack of romance are catching up to me in one big swooping moment. Somewhere down below realizes the possibility of what goes around comes around but I never felt it would culminate like this.
Somehow I feel that the inevitable result is my heart being smashed into several indiscernable pieces. But at the sometime I realize she is a great girl and would never do anything ot hurt me. I just don't know what to expect and don't know what to do. I just don't know what to expect and don't know what to do. I just hope I don't hurt her, because in all reality, I really care for her a lot already.
This semester has been a road to nowhere, academically speaking. My grades have been subpar so far, but I'm having a real inability to feign caring. That is one thing I dislike about the UVA attitude: you almost have to care even if you say you don't. People have a real problem of letting go and relaxing here; there is a certain uneasiness about every soul here.
I have two tests next week, and following break, a rash of papers. I am trusting my intuition and natural ability at history can carry me through this semester. So far it has not been working that well, but my concerns lie elsewhere right now.
My feeling of this semester is that it may well be the turning point of my life. As lame and maybe empty-hearted as that seems, I just have this gut feeling of now or never. Can I put it all together? Can I finally become the person I want? Or am I forever destined to hide behind this hollowed shell?
It looks like I've run out of things to talk about. I suppose I could talk about girls, school, art, or relevant world issues, but I don't really feel it right now.
(A hazy sketch of a card with a heart in the middle and a copyright symbol on the top right hand corner)
A boy professes his
Love through Hallmark
A girl professes her
Love for jewelry
(A sketch of a human stick figure with boxes instead of hands and feet)
10 adjectives that may
Describe me:
interested, maladroit, unaware
sorry, awkward, selfish
hopeful, overbearing, unsure
misunderstood
A word man without words fails to be a man. I will always be stuck.
I could never say the right thing if I wanted to. Any chance people enjoy my company is purely coincidental.
I'd be much happier in a big city, me and the streets could be forever lonely together.
The fierce ramblings of an incoherent suburban boy fail to get across much except for his love for his self-created misery.
cecilia broke his confidence
daily,
Alexander wrote bad poetry
in a crazy kind of urgency
I feel like if I'm serious about this writing idea, I need to write a lot. I just don't understand how authors are able to write in another world for so long.
For instance, I'd probably get real frustrated when people misintepret my first novel. So in the next one I'd get even more cynical and just lay out everything real simply. By the end the fact that I have no confidence in my audience would overwhelm me and I'd just write a stupid essay on what everything was supposed to mean.
I hope I'll at least give writing a shot. The prevailing thought regarding the future is some mindless job in a cubicle. But there is always a slim hope that maybe I can change my ways and kick ass in every artistic way. I just want to read books all day long and think about love and the Civil War for weeks on end.
(robot face on left) (people standing on broken heart box on right)
This tainted love you've given
I give you all a boy could give
you
Take my tears and thats
not nearly (ENOUGH!)