Man, that was dumb. The last bad circus, just to see how Wringling it could be. Center circle, all of them, packed with whirling hounds and ladies dressed so dazzling that they become unreal, and I freak out. I could have lost it all, I might have been trying. I certainly don't believe that. Somewhere there's a P, after all of the Xs are gone, and I believe it will keep me going, alive, aware, and humble.
Laura Palmer's disappeared.
Some have said that they had feared
foul play.
I don't know anything about it,
She was confusing, and a tester of wit,
that day.
At night she became dark with the sky.
Yet I still do not know why
I went over.
It was the lightning that fused the will.
If we were there, it'd be the lightning still
that drove her.
That was painless. Future question of the day. When?
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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