Somebody asked me the other day why I don't write in my diary about how I feel, and how my days are going, or who I'm really pissed off at. I damn near slapped that person. I don't write about my day because I dont' think it's that important. What I do today will have little bearing on what I do in the future. It will have almost no bearing on what I say and think a year from now. I write about what's important to me, the thoughts that I have, the ideas that my brain sees fit to create. And every once in a while, when I make some decision which I feel may be life altering it may get thrown in.

But what I put here isn't for anyone else. It's for me. That's what a diary is for, for it's writer to put down what he/she thinks about. If that means describing everyday events, then that's fine, they should do that. But that's not me, I don't feel the need. If I wanted to update my friends on the events in my life I'd fucking write them e-mails, or call them on the goddamn phone. The fact is that my real friends already know the intricate details of my personality. So I have no need to demonstrate them with story after useless story. Only the major events need to be covered, things that may affect the way I respond to certain situations (ie giving up pot). Although it should be noted that off to the right of each entry there is a small section highlighting the day's greatest accomplishment.

ok, that's about enought ranting for now. On to something different.

I love her. What she decides to tell me or withold from me is her business. I would hope that she would let me know everything, because I want to know everything about her. But when it comes down to it, it's her choice. I'm not going to ask, because I don't want to force an answer. If she thinks I need to know, then I'll know. When it comes down to it, I think she's still afraid. Afraid that I'm just going to forget, afraid that I'm just going to leave. I wish I knew how to comfort her fear. I wish I could help. I try as hard as I can, but it feels that it's never enough. I know I'm not a superman, I can't fix every problem. But I want to. I want to so badly that it hurts when I'm unable.

Enough of this, I don't want to think about it anymore. Time for some music and quiet contemplation.

Strong as Steel, still malleable

Iron