Blurb. Speak now, or forever holder cease. This doesn't seem to be working too well. Hmmm. Let me see. Questions, questions. Damn, it seems like I have to waste a lot of time in waiting out the answers. Someday the time will be all gone, and the questions long forgotten, and the answers long since devoured and ingested. What's to be said in that end? We tried? Did we try rightly? Where's the best path? Will we ever know it? Will we even know if it's been missed?
A certain someone dropped by today,
Now, please, don't ask me to give it away,
They shared with me a secret phrase,
that sent my soaked brain into an iron maze,
and upon emerging, I found that gaze,
that had sent me. And now these days,
I wait for what I've been allowed to,
shared moments of warmth and desires true.
In the end, it all worked out different than when I first plunged and recoiled at the shadowed depths.
On Xmas of 1992 my brother gave me this journal made of recycled paper with a twig pencil. I eventually filled it up sporadically up to 1995. I dug it out, dusted it off, and started looking through it today, May 6th, 2013. I've decided to reproduce the posts online. It's raw and sure to be embarrassing, but I feel enough time has passed that I can distance myself, yet find a very familiar me within these lines and perhaps find the inspiration to take up the pen again..... Thanks, big Bro.
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