we will read them when we forget why we left.

     every once in a while I get into an honest and revealing mood.


this is not one of those times.

     so i'm just going to leave some disjointed partial sentences or confessions, and my readers (i'm sure there's about 3, and they're all girls) can figure out if I am talking about them or not, since that is always the problem I have had with these things.



     but f1rst.




Ashley asked me the other day why it was so easy for me to disconnect my emotions.

     I thought about it for a while then I said.... when I was a little boy, maybe 6-years-old, my mom sat me down in the kitchen and explained to me that her and my dad were getting a divorce.

     I instantly burst into tears. i'm not really sure why. maybe I thought our family was doing good at that time, in my youth stained vision. but, I cried. and my mom asked me who I wanted to live with, to which I replied that I wanted to live with her.

     (on a side note; years later, my mom admitted that she only stayed with my father because of us, the kids. she endured what she didn't have to in order to have us grow up in a two parent family. I felt like such an asshole.)


    then I went on to say that my emotions have always gotten the best of me, and people don't like that. they don't like knowing that something they said or did, or didn't do made someone else feel emotions. it's actually ridiculous. 

     I went on to tell her that throughout my life I had to learn to kill my emotions so people wouldn't feel uncomfortable. also, so I wouldn't end up doing stupid/inspired things. 

     I get inspired very easily, but I also get discouraged easily too. my safety device became the coldness I learned from my father, and I use it well. but, I also disclosed that even though I am willing to throw away a friendship in a heartbeat, when I get home... that's when I cry about it. in private. 

    so in the end I am only hurting myself. 






now on to the main event. 

ever since my cousin died, every funeral I go to has me re-living

the agony of his.

I miss you, and I wish things had never changed.

my only real dreams are to be a writer and a singer/songwriter, but I do

nothing about either of those dreams.

to get over things, I drink. if I really feel shitty then I smoke.

several years ago, my sister called me crying from las vegas where she was 

staying with her husband. he had gotten drunk and violent.

I nearly cried as I told her that all I could do was buy her a plane ticket 

to come back for the morning. after she was home she told me that 

somewhere in all the broken lamps and fighting my mother's camera

had been broken as well. I told her not to worry about it. I told

my mother that I dropped it one day and that I would buy her a new one.

to this day she still mentions how I broke her camera.

when Jackson moved away I cried.

when randy moved away I did not.

I never think of us getting back together.

I hate when I am cynical about people and I end up being right.

I like when you tell me goodnight.

I don't think that the things I do are ever enough.

I have fairly low self esteem.

I've had sex with two different girls in the same day, three in the same week.

these were all individual girls, no repeats.

I have never had a one night stand, or met someone at

a bar or club and brought them home to fuck.

I don't fuck drunk girls.

I have never gotten drunk and "accidentally" had sex with a fat girl.

I have had sex with a couple fat girls sober. ha.

I like to tell stories because of my cousin. I am not as good as he was at telling them.

I know when I am repeating my self. when my friends repeat themselves

I listen just as intently as the first time I heard the story.

I want to save everyone. that's part of the reason I love The Catcher In The Rye. I have pulled people from various car wrecks, changed tires for old ladies, jumped cars, taken pictures of hit and runs and given those pictures to the owners of the damaged car so they could file a report. every time I run to help these strangers, then I leave before 

anyone knows who I was.

I will always be there for you, regardless of how poorly you treat me.
 I will never tell you not to come.

I will attend all your parties, and go wherever you wish me to.

I will always be there for you, even if you don't deserve it.

because I am stupid.

I cried on that white military bus as we pulled out of the parking lot, heading to Iraq.

not because I was scared, but because the week before I sat at my

dinner table with my father and asked him to come see me off. he agreed and

I thought that for once I would have a decent moment with my father.

he never showed up.

I drove over 90 mph, with my old car's heat gauge well in the red, from cypress to riverside

because I was afraid that I would miss my daughter's birth. I didn't miss it.

these days, my family isn't allowed to see her.

I started smoking because of a girl. I started drinking because of my father.

sometimes I feel overwhelmed. I feel like I don't belong here. it makes people

that are close to me upset because there's nothing they can do to help me.

it has nothing to do with them.

I... don't know.

I learned about love from the movies I used to watch as a kid. I have become a

character in a movie of sorts.

I believe that if things need to end, then the should end

spectacularly. I will tell you that I don't want to be around

you anymore. then I will go home and cry about a life that I lost before I

even had a chance to try.

goodnight.