& red.

I don't like red. If a site is red, I won't stay. I'll just close the window. Red scares me. Red is the color of war. The color of hatred. The color of disgust. And the color of my blood.

Sunday, July 15, 2001 02:48 p.m.

& revelation.

It has occurred to me that I am extremely uncomfortable with talking to guys. (With only one exception.) Whenever I start making friends with a guy on a message board or on instant messenger, I always end up backing away or blocking him. Why am I so reluctant? What's making me so scared?

Sunday, July 15, 2001 01:10 p.m.

& empty.

I have a jar. It is almost completely empty. Just like my soul.

Wednesday, July 11, 2001 06:43 p.m.

& broken.

I feel as though someone has stuck a hand mixer into my chest. You know, one of the manual ones where you have to turn the little crank to make it spin. And they start to turn it, slowly at first, ripping my heart into pieces. But every so often, they start cranking it very, very fast, absolutely massacring my heart into a bloody mess. And that is when it gets too much, and all I can do is cry.

Tuesday, July 10, 2001 12:37 p.m.

& work of art.

I took a red pen and wrote his name all over my arm. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Tuesday, July 10, 2001 02:06 a.m.

& she walks in the shadows.

The sun is bright outside my window, casting sideways shadows and leaving bright patches around my room. But I cannot see the bright patches. I dwell in the shadows, the darkness, the pain and sorrow. And when the sun fades away and the night falls down, I am pulled even further into that realm of despair and darkness, from which there is no clear escape.

Monday, July 9, 2001 05:05 p.m.