crazy-raver's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Just one more poetic gesture plz. Hiyah, As the days progress and I remain jobless, I feel a lot of discontent. I replied to a post on craigslist not 5 mins a go, with any luck I�ll get a response tomorrow or the next day. The situation between the lovers seems to be changing a bit. My relationship with the people up here has become a little different. I don�t know what they think of me, I care a tad. However I can remain vigilant and hope I can get a mutha trucking job. To be honest there isn't much on my mind. It's a Friday night, and I find my self at home venting on d-land. I lovez you d-land. I'm sure the occasional thoughts of what ifs pop in and out of my mind. FUDGE. I haven't said talked about this but SHIET. I've had numerous dreams about the ex. AND WHEN I SAY NUMEROUS ITS ABOUT ONCE A WEEK. Damn. I don't think about her all that much. We'll in my dream we just continued as if nothing happened. There's no beef, there's no marriage, perhaps maybe on a subconscious level I want to be with her, that safe feeling? That loving feeling. It's not that I don't enjoy the feelings in my dream, its just that I want to move on, but I keep having these gosh darn dreams of her. Perhaps this is my still wanting some sorta closure. On her birthday, I did shoot her an e-mail. We traded stories thus far, but that was a good long while a go, and before I haven't had any sort of communication except for an email that was sent a year before. I hating being stagnant reality, perhaps my dreams are a form of self defense. Showing me what I want to see so that I don't feel sad or something, or another idea is that when I'm sleeping there is a huge influx of endorphins that give me a warm sense of security. Fudge. Fudge. Well I guess I got that out of my system. Keep on, Moving on. The other night was pretty eventful. Long story short met up with some people, met some new people, drank and sang, puked, came home and went to sleep. Whew good times. I want to write something. Something poetic, but I find my self over critical about my selection of words. There's only one thing I want to write about, that one thing that I yearn for. I don't want to rhyme. It's just too yesterday. I want my poems to paint a masterpiece. I just don't want to write any poem. I like to keep a record of them, little treasures I guess. Well, I'll continue later. Goodnight ladies and gentlemen. ~Good 10:53 p.m. - 2010-04-09 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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