I've been ignoring the gentle reminders since August. I had less to write about during that time. I love this site, and I love reading other people's accounts of confounding relationships, their bizarre first chapters, the first lines of their new diary that they promise to write in every day, but end mid-page, even mid-sentence. This is my favorite anonymous online community. I love how impossible it is to confirm a person's identity. It seems like there are tides on this site, and when one person starts writing a particular way then ten or twenty other people will too that week. And it's always either relationships, novels or diaries. Anyway. I'd love to wax poetic on why I love this site so much, but I think it'd get pretty boring.
I'm writing about Dallas again, because it seems like the only appropriate category in my folio for this particular topic. Hell, I just want everyone to know what goes on here; how all cities are exactly like cities and it doesn't matter how lame they are, there are always young people and old people falling in love and screwing up and getting it on and falling in love again--this time with the wrong person--no matter where you go. And even though it can definitely feel like the heart of all evil, it's still a place where dopes like you and me can find the right person.
Not that lawyer guy, no, not him. Poor guy. I don't hate him. I don't even think he's a douche bag. I'm talking about ____ ____, a man I love so much I won't even type his name here, even though I know he'll never read it. I just love him so much that I don't want anything to be awkward for him, ever. Because, you know, what if he Googles his name in the next three minutes, and this page is still on "Glimpses"?
I was 19 and he was 16 when we first met. We were in a band. The guitar player asked me to come to practice one day because he was looking for a new singer.
"I didn't know you were going to be there. I didn't know that he was even looking around for a girl singer. I just showed up one day and there was this hot girl in our rehearsal space," he said.
"Did you really think I was hot?" I asked.
I'm writing about Dallas again, because it seems like the only appropriate category in my folio for this particular topic. Hell, I just want everyone to know what goes on here; how all cities are exactly like cities and it doesn't matter how lame they are, there are always young people and old people falling in love and screwing up and getting it on and falling in love again--this time with the wrong person--no matter where you go. And even though it can definitely feel like the heart of all evil, it's still a place where dopes like you and me can find the right person.
Not that lawyer guy, no, not him. Poor guy. I don't hate him. I don't even think he's a douche bag. I'm talking about ____ ____, a man I love so much I won't even type his name here, even though I know he'll never read it. I just love him so much that I don't want anything to be awkward for him, ever. Because, you know, what if he Googles his name in the next three minutes, and this page is still on "Glimpses"?
I was 19 and he was 16 when we first met. We were in a band. The guitar player asked me to come to practice one day because he was looking for a new singer.
"I didn't know you were going to be there. I didn't know that he was even looking around for a girl singer. I just showed up one day and there was this hot girl in our rehearsal space," he said.
"Did you really think I was hot?" I asked.
