But I know there's more.
Somewhere.
* * *
"Start at the Beginning. Again."
Posted by One Trick Pony
Tuesday August 2nd, 8 P.M.
Dear Diary,
This is hard.How does she go for hundreds of words? Thousands?
There is something about the feeling of putting words on paper.
It releases them.
But there's more to say. A lot more.
I don't spin words the way she does. I don't spin much.
Maybe I can post a drawing. Maybe that will make some kind of sense.
But how would it look?
A lost boy, running back and forth, alternating between trying to hide from his pain and trying to understand it.
Running to the guy he used to be?
The shallow dude who loved to keep it casual.
I didn't think about anything besides drawing, drinking, and fucking.
That isn't completely true. I had moments, especially with my sisters, but I hid from them.
I was scared of them.
And, after D died, I couldn't hide anymore. Not with my usual methods—work and women.
I needed more. Enough alcohol to forget.
It worked for a while. Then it didn't.
I went deeper into my head.
I felt the pretense.
There's a reason so many pop songs are about partying. It's so you don't stop to ask yourself, "What the hell am I doing here? Why am I doing this?"
I was no longer the guy who rocked along to the incomprehensible Top 40 songs.
I heard the lyrics.
I heard my sisters arguing about which of the songs at a party were more pointless.
I'd heard that before. In person, in text, in my head. But it had never hurt before. It always made me smile. Oh, D and M at it again.