What is it about you that continue to draw me near, even in my darkest times? You are so addictive, cunning, and callous yet fleeting. You appear in dark corridors at the most inappropriate of times.

Amongst your favorite places to linger I dare to tread, but, alas, you seem to find me. Every time you touch me I swear this will be the last taste of your poison fruit.

I remember the first time we met; it was spring (or so it seemed). What was I thinking? Skipping class with you to pick dandelions? Actually, the more that I think about it, it is rather fitting - you are a weed! You spread your filth wherever you travel plus, if you really think about it, you are rather unsightly. Hell, billions of dollars are spent each year to rid you off the face of the earth. Yet, you reappear. Bleck.

Aggghhh, give me some rest!

"You're ten minutes late!" he muttered, angrily as he eyed the big Ben Wall clock (it was always ran 4-minutes late anyway).

"Yea, I know," I replied offering no excuses for my tardiness. As I rounded the corner of my desk he began to spot the faint trail of blood that had been following me since I left my car.

"WHAT HAPPENED!" he exclaimed with great disbelief (and so early in the morning).

"Oh, that?" I said flatly, "I fell on the ice and broke my woman parts." I made no excuses because this hadn’t been the first time it had happened and it mostly certainly was not going to be the last.

In my madman's fantasies I seek only love and justice. I hold nothing above this noble pursuit. I am taken away, even for a moment, to a place where nothing exists - white light. In this light I know no greater freedom than here, then now. Reality outside this sphere doesn't exist. From an early age I understood that I could manipulate my current situation into any reality that I saw fit for the moment, the evening, and the year - in this I controlled what was uncontrollable.

Time - never had a meaning to me. I refuse to wear a wristwatch.

"It's all man made," I proclaimed.

"Perhaps", she answered, sheepishly as she leaned in to kiss me.

"When fact is fiction and TV is reality."

In the ill-tempered salad days of my life I once believed that love was worth fighting for - and fighting hard. For the person, whom I was at that moment under the allusion of, I would probably do most of anything to insure they were happy, satisfied or most likely just short of leaving (even though they probably wanted to long ago).

I don't think I handled rejection well at that moment of my life. Not because of the fear of not being liked, or worse despised, but because I wasn't content with the thought that a reality, other than what I had created, existed.

More times than none the reality that I had created in my mind, even in its unrequited bliss, was never healthy. Most of the time it was dangerous and unfit for anyone, let alone someone with a weaker disposition to such things as heartbreak.

Now I find myself keeping more and more to myself. Sometimes it's a healthy feeling, but then I remember that if I don't allow myself to be open, I will never feel that love again.

I still remember this one man's face so well; the one who told me he liked me very much. I think, at that moment, he was genuine. Then, as the knowing wore on, he became more and more aware of what wasn't interesting, attractive or unique in his attraction.

I was sad when I met him. Confused when I left. The experience, overall, was worth the hassle of the minimum amount of heartbreak involved.

I understand that I cannot become a master of my reality until I learn to deal with the monsters (and demons) from my past. Patterns fold on top of patterns, creating paths, creating disaster.

Point blank...you read this with confusion..Why the hell would someone propose his or her weaknesses in such a public forum? Well, that is a hard question to answer.... I think it has something to do with the fact that I think what I feel is no inhumane. It is real. It is natural. It is honest. It isn't always beautiful pictures and flowers...but when has life ever been like that?

I am not scared of getting hurt because I know that I am, after all, my worst enemy. Everything that is painful in this world is manufactured, cultivated and maintained by me. Words...words...words are meaningless...

Still not sure how I feel. Anyway, I think I am taking down this blog for a while...not sure yet, have to decide still.

Happy Birthday to MMMMEEEE! Well, let's see how it goes. I will be back in a bit. Oh also, now that it's over...I can begin to tell ALL.