It's past the devil's bedtime and the angels are getting angry, screaming silence from up above, and he is sitting there smiling...just watching and waiting for something chaotic to begin. His grin is long and wide, spreading out through the entire world stricly unknowingly. Passive me, oh passive me.

The days have been good to me lately. Beautiful green-eyed boy whole stole my heart while I faced him, knowing that I was gaining a part of me in those jade eyes that infected me infinitely, I love *you* like no other. I have only known *you* for barely a year, but we have shared so much beauty between us, affected each other in ways unknown prior to each other's existence, *you* are there to Elmer's glue me back together when I am broken. I say this here, in my journal (not diary) because what I see in *you* I want to share with others as well. Yes, I could write this to *you in a letter, where no other eyes would view it except for *yours*, but I am inflicting my love for *you* upon anyone who chooses to read. And I know *you will. *You* are an untouchable light in my life that will not stop shining. My heart bleeds for *you*.

On another note...Emiko is a funny girl, a very, very, very funny little Asian girl. She likes to put on peel-off masques too, just so she can pull her face off. Try it sometime, maybe you'll like it too.

Hmmmm, I'm getting worried. L's with her sophomore friends...and uhm, let's just say that they're not in their "right" states right now. I hope everything's ok.

Anywho...So this girl's puking...And L's trying to reinact the things that I've (and I quote) "learned her". So she calls me because she doesn't know what to do with her...I get stuck on the phone with a girl named Rachel, she's chit chatting about, "What year are you? Oh really, you graduated...from where? Oh cool, Evanston..." She drops to phone to go puke some more, I talk to L, tell her to keep Rachel awake if she's still feeling like shit and to have her try to eat bread or crackers, something to soak up the alcohol, maybe some water, and (duh) not to let her drink anymore tonight...tomorrow morning, fine whatever, I don't care. Just don't wake me up if she starts puking again.

Here's a hilarious conversation...
Her:Kristen Iam so watesd
Me:oh gawd. . .you drank at wabeccas?;
Her: whatb ?; Iam at erbecca
Her: s
Her: she hi@ krisebt
Her: kr8isten
Her: kristen
Me: yeah
Her: hi tina Ilm km at reecaas and ai;m so wasted
Me: ok

Now wasn't that fun? I think so. I should get my own talk show on MTV like those putzes from Loveline. Yeah. Uh huh.

9:36 A.M.
I wanted to sleep in the night with *you*. I wanted to hold *your* head against my chest so *you* could hear my heart beat infinitely. *You* kissed me, showing me that what I was feeling was so real. We sang to Pinkerton and I melted away to Paris. I never wanted to leave *you*, the warmth, the hugs and gentle kisses that made my body soar higher than I could ever imagined, it was all there. When I awoke early this morning, it felt like it was all a dream. But then I felt the words of last night smothered all over my body. We had been together, my reality my dream and my dream a neverending love.