As everything coalesces, the dreams, the reality, the bitter taste, the bastard's complaints, once again the truth is found in the words of a stranger. Those beauties, in solid motion, those beauties, I love them so. I watched each of them walk away, I suffered an unfair burden, I sacrifice for the few, those who come close and call themselves needy. I don't give to all, only certain. I can only imagine that my feelings are correct, otherwise, arbitrary reckonings are abound.
There once was a girl from Minzk,
who bathed in a pearl-white tinzk,
when she asked who was there
when I knocked with her bare,
I saw her soapy suds not rinsked.
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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