I close my eyes and believe, that where ever you are, an angel for me...Nothing hurts more than a breeze brushing against the face, still stained and soaked with tears for unknown reasons. No, nothing is worse.

Infared days have been frequent, yet she still cannot bring herself up to get out. She is sick and lonely and dying. Maybe not dying, but deteriorating. She's run out of Scotch tape and Elmer's to piece herself back together.









10:21 P.M.
One of the better days yet...Little thought, and I saw Patrick. I gave him his fan mail and the emo screamo mix. He enlightened me with his music, which I greatly appreciate. He's so much, so beautiful, so honest and just great. He knows what he means to me, which is good. He hears my thoughts when I'm not speaking. He sees my feelings when I'm not showing. We shared a short hug before we parted, and it was one of the most peaceful feelings I've had in days. The warmth melted away as I entered the air outside. Away from me, but always hanging from my heart.

Thanks to the one handjob who left me the oh-so-inspiring message in the guestbook. To you, here is my "emo" salute: