2010-07-03 03:33:57 ET I have large angry butterflies in my stomach. Actually, they feel a whole lot more like wasps.

2010-07-02 19:15:24 ET I'm going up to Alabama tomorrow for the long weekend to spend time with Greg. I'm going on my bike & am going to pretend GSXRs are touring bikes. My back is going to hate me. 400 miles. YAY! I'm bringing the few vicodin I have left from when I got hit that the ER gave me as I have a feeling I will need them in order to sleep that evening. 1 comment

2010-07-01 11:32:46 ET I try to sleep my days away but my nights are spent staring in to the void of a porcelain bowl. I'm exhausted, unmotivated, disillusioned, etc. I'm concerned as to what will happen with Greg because I know his co-workers have been trying to set up him up. I was talking to him on the phone last night when I suddenly heard an angry sounding "what the fuck." He got pissed because his co-worker gave him number to his girl's friend and the first thing the girl does is send him pictures of her pierced nipples. Knowing how he is being all paranoid about STDs and such... he seriously thinks everyone has AIDs he seemed genuinely disgusted as the quality of person she was... not even a hi just a here's my tits pic. I'm trying to not make a big deal out of it but I wonder whether I should continue waiting or not. 6 comments

2010-06-28 21:37:10 ET We write emo poetry to each other. His: Why do I want to cry? Every time the radio's on these damn songs just remind me I'm so far gone. From my home, my life, from you. I just don't know what to do. Now that I got a good thing going but the meanings not there, simply because you're not here. Mine: It's everything that I can do right now To not think about you moving further off With every passing second And every night of this lonely humid hell I will ask myself how badly do I want this? I really want this When we met we swore up and down it wouldn't be like this It wouldn't be like this You swore it wouldn't be like this I miss you more than you know Remember mosquito infested evenings Abandoned building, no trespassing signs, and disregarded subliminal warnings When we told everyone we were just riding I never wanted to go home Every morning waking up with you Would give me hope there'd be another one When will there be another one? The day you left I drew a treasure map on your hand I thought it might take you home And back where you belong I'm really no treasure But we can pretend I must be flowing liquid diamonds Out of these treacherous eyes of mine It's everything that I can do right now To not think about you moving further off With every passing second And every night of this lonely humid hell I will ask myself how badly do I want this? I really want this. 4 comments

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