it is difficult, to encrypt everything i say. everything i write is the truth, and i like it that way, but there are times when i realize that certain people read what i wrote and it kills me. i want to share with all the earth, not those in my own backyard. and its too damn difficult to encrypt everything so maybe no one will understand. but those not involved might.

seated where i didnt want to be... why? because you can see me. i never wanted to come anyway. the corner would have been appropriate, the balcony, alone. where i can see you but you wouldnt think of seeing me. but out of courtesy (and no offense...). it lasts forever and number two is the hardest. so many people involved! my heart beat faster, painfully, and when the curtain rose i wanted to sink back into my chair and somehow paint the yellow hat black. once i thought we made eye contact and i didnt want to wave. all in a moment of your passion, all my love turns to hate. and it was good but so typical, depression. and you looked happy and oblivious. i clapped too, even that, though slouched in my chair.

and you beamed, it was sunshine. but just for an instant, just for a flicker, i saw it fade. that smile melted, those eyes searched, but no one was standing.

i feel so cruel writing these words. i thought that as i walked across the dripping concrete courtyard alone that i would be the perfect bastard. just that... nothing works. my bitterness would take away so much more than whatever it was reacting against. the perfect bastard, and that didnt bother me. because thinking about that, walking huddled in the drizzle, was more comfortable than sitting there burning.

and the rest wasnt any better. i noticed though, how you had matured. how you were so included and advanced and a leader. it was obvious. youre still a liar. still, i cant talk to you because i cant help liking it. i make myself sick. you make me sick. and its not like i can even have my last hurrah, my closure... because theres always tomorrow. we even have plans... oh jesus. something else to look forward to. if i could just end things on a low note, just once... leaving wouldnt be so bad. and if i ever thought about it later on, at least i would have reason to hate this part. but every single day, sunshine, brings me back years.

and that, as im learning, i cant let go.