Crazy What You Could've Had
I Feel Kinda Guilty Now.
I've been reading what other people have written (mostly
Americans, but whether that has any bearing or is just
noticed, I dunno) in their online diaries. It seems
everyone wants to be a deep meaningful poet. Maybe that's
the kind of person the internet breeds. Maybe all these
people need to be loved; maybe they all deserve to be. I
I don't care. Just let me know if you feel I'm whining. I
don't want you to feel depressed about my life. If I did, I
would make you ask me about it. This is information I
volunteer, things I gradually become more able to share
with a populous (however many it may be, anyone can read
this, from the girl in the bandana to, well, The Revered W.
I want people to read this and think about me, wistfully
(would be best, maybe ladies if you could smile, that'd be
nice...)happily, just think about things I say, things that
happen. I might not be the most normal of people, the most
mentally stable (Whoooah! Other person's diary alert. 'I'm
not normal. I'm mentally unstable') I don't believe I am, I
jsut think I think. If were mentally unstable my diary
wouldn't read like this. If I were 'different', it would be
different again. I'm just like you are, but I've made
certain choices that you either didn't or didn't have to,
and these have shaped me into somebody you aren't. Lost you
I'll put it simply. Enjoy this diary. If I could do
anything to make it better, let me know. I've nothing to
hide, nothing I wouldn't write - I don't want to fall into
mindless drivel. This is why I try to report what's been on
my mind during the day, or events that might shape what
I've done. If you take the time to read it, I should take
the time to make it as enjoyable as I can.
WILT? Green Grow The Rushes - R.E.M.