Saturday, August 20, 2005

   Ha ha...
Sometimes I wonder why I try to help everyone out...but I always come up with no answer. Every friend I've ever had has had a lot of problems...so I guess wanting to help everyone I meet is just second nature. And I guess it could get me in trouble, if I'm not careful, but I don't want to think about it.

I guess I don't want to think about a lot of things...but the thoughts come anyways. Memories won't fade fast enough. I think about her every now and then-Jen, I mean. And I always feel a pang of regret. I wonder how she's doing-if things are really going alright. I feel guilty, too. Maybe I was trying too hard to get her back into my life when she made it clear she wanted distance. So the coldness got to me and I tried to get her to be nicer to me...which only made her angry. I understand why now. I check up on her LJ now and then...just to see how she is...when I know I shouldn't. It only hurts me more. But memories don't fade fast enough...

A friend's MyO got me to thinking...how many drawings do i have sitting unfinished? How many songs do i have yet to write? How many stories are still untold? If...tomorrow were to be my last day...how much regret would I carry with me? Words left unspoken...hugs left ungiven...any day could be our final day. I read a Gravitation story...where Shuichi had to go on a tour kind of thing and he'd be gone for a week. Yuki told him he didn't think it was a good idea, but he went anyway...and the bus crashed and Shuichi died. And all Yuki could do is sit in their house and cry because he never told Shuichi "I love you." It made ME cry. *sigh*

Well, not much else has happened. So...*shrug* I'll let you all know when something does. No doubt when Erik or Jeremy gets home. *rolls eyes*
-----------------------------------
The whisper that dissolves into the bustling crowd
Makes the memories scattered underfoot blur together.

The blazing of the street where I walk about lost (glaring one way)
Illuminates me as coldly as though it freezes.

The cold times make dreams fall like rain and slip through my hands.
When I woke up from the countless wishes, you are reflected in a shimmering
illusion --
the silhouette whose faint smile leads me along.

Even if the gentleness that tells about only what makes anxiety flow
had fulfilled eternity, I still don't want tomorrow.

The words that I have to give to you are (it's talk to myself)
falling into an everyday routine, even without shadows.

With a trembling finger, I gather up the dreams; without even breathing
on them, they're crumbling.
Even the certain things are too unreliable; if I believe in something, can
I be with you again?
It's whitely vanishing, the silhouette of that day.

Looking up at that palely-dyed season (Life Winter Dream)
I, who stopped to stand still, am swept away.

The wind blows it out, makes it be left behind; even the yearning is growing
numb from the cold in my heart.

The cold times drift about in dreams, but are caught and held in your hands.
When I woke up from the countless wishes, you are reflected in a shimmering
illusion --
the silhouette whose faint smile leads me along.
-----------------------------------




Comments (4)