Daily II


1:02 PM
Today, in which I pine over a long love affair will include daily email logins, the fancy for bike riding, and an excuse to go on the treadmill and daydream of better days in order to remain calm. An action that I am far too familiar with that can only lead to thoughts of unrequited passion and a bargaining for sensibility.

1:19 PM
Today, in which I regrettably sacrifice an ounce of trust in order to seek knowledge of what is not mine, but in return gained a new, one-sided, trustee bond-ship that has me worry less because there is not much to worry for but only comfort and the consistency of rushing ecstasy.

1:30 PM
Mon cherie, mon capitaine, mon amour!

12:01 AM
Forgiveness, I plead for thee! Though you will never hear from it.

1:33 PM
There is no presence of me here. Nothing to call my name and speak gentle gestures of affinity. Am I just a private folly? For a dear sir knows that only love is folly for the wise.

9:01 AM
Peter Van Raaij
I look at her and say to myself, she is too trusting, especially with a vicious cat at that.

9:03 PM
In which she broods for 1,000 calories instead of waiting.
Either that or skip breakfast.
I did none.


Daily I (7/7-7/12)

Reminiscent of a balloon flapping as it loses air expecting something amazing to happen but after a while you wonder, is that it?

All the girls are singing while the little pudgy boy tries to eat his ice cream as it drips down his red sweater. They pass by her, in a faded sound of giggles and running. She could only reciprocate in a blink.

I wonder what would happen if I mute her; if she would be angry or apathetic. But of course, she would throw a fit! I can see her raging now, desperately cursing at me through emphasized mouthing as she frantically wail her arms about, pounding at my shoulders--hysterically, even. I think I might just snicker.

After looking at profile pictures of couples kissing one questions:
1. Do they always tend to have a camera out for their convenience?
2. And is that gum in his mouth?

After clicking on the exit button, one is left slightly embarrassed for them, feeling awkward for trespassing on something that can only make you blush.

I've come to decide that I don't much prefer people. I even sort of detest myself.

To wish for someone to think me cute again in which there is an imprinted memory of me wrinkling my nose in a cheery, smiley fashion in order to remain, if not interesting, at least darling--I think I'd like that.