So around, around it goes, here again,
painful blows.
Pain imbedded in the mind, all your own,
face it,
Laughably soft, there's nothing to it. DREAD__
besides the caps, just
another arrangement of letters, just
making sense in your head.
Nowhere else.
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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