november 26, 1999
i wish you were in my arms! (because you certainly are in my head). one time i remember while i was at work, you went and got water guns and glowing necklaces for us. and when i came home we ran outside and had a big cold water fight. you wanted to show me a good time, you said. all the steps we have walked, and all the things we have looked at from the same place..everything has been so much more than wonderful. so much more than i could have ever asked for or wanted in secret. when you are around i feel so amazed at who you are, and how can i keep from smiling? fifteen months of smiles have made me such a happy person. two days lived three hours apart have made my arms ache to be around your shoulders.

november 25, 1999
it's my first turkey-less thanksgiving. that's something to be thankful for...the fact that i had the strength to resist the power of dark meat. mmm i love dark meat. it's my favorite, or i guess it was my favorite. i like not eating it though..it feels good.
i just made a christmas present for a really cool friend of mine. it's pretty cool and i hope she likes it but anyway..now i'm off to practice. the people are almost here to listen to my song, so i'll make it the best one any of them have ever heard.

november 16, 1999
i hate pop-up banners. they never ever want to stay down. it's like trying to make a kitty cat sit still on a chair or something..it just doens't work. but i love times when everything comes together. the sun peeking through after weeks steeped in grey. maybe it was the chill in the air that drove away all the bad things in life. or maybe it was just the unceasing help of a most wonderful friend. either way, a new song now rings in my ears, as the old sights etched into my eyes grow hazy and disfigured. the world around me is changing, washing away its somber tint. and it all started with the one thing that never changed in the first place..

november 13, 1999
what is this? are you looking up to me? it is strange to me that i was wearing your shoes not too long ago. just two years, i think. or was it two days? at times like this i wonder where exactly i will be at the end of the week.

november 10, 1999
all these formalities..just listening makes me feel tired and heavy. "she has her reasons" but she never specifies what they are. the language she speaks is the one of people who always think they're right, combined with the tone of voice of those who care nothing about others' feelings. do you ever stop and think before you speak? even more..do you ever really listen? if you knew who i am you would also know that your traditions and values are as abrasive to me as sandpaper is to wood. and through the words formed in your mind i can see how little you care, no matter how "well-intentioned" your criticisms are. greater respect is to be given to the one who gives practical reasons regarding decisions to be made. the one who has taken the time to not just hear what i'm saying but to really listen to it; that person is the one who knows me much better. trust and respect are gifts bestowed upon people who truly deserve them, the ones who have a real desire to help another person. think for a second before you get back up on that soapbox of yours...my hands won't be able to reach yours to give you that gift.

november 4, 1999
shabba-doo-bang. so simple yet i can't do it to save my life.

november 1, 1999
each day gets better and better...the sun is brighter and the sky is bluer (but never quite as blue as your eyes..i don't know if that is possible). every day the things once misunderstood make themselves a bit clearer, clear as my head gets when life invites me to smile. and these invitations keep ending up everywhere..in my email, at shows, on the street. one found its way into my little white practice room today. and it read, "i've been here for a few days, but i was transparent and hard to find." and after touching it my fingers played beethoven, soft soundtrack to the pictures on the back of my eyes. three days past lifeless, they sprung into color and entered the song.