hard: Jul. 30, 2002 (8:52 pm)

when i was a kid (two years ago) i thought i would be so fucking revolutionary if i could be a meaningful punk. because fugazi was still enigmatic; and courtney love didn't mean a thing to me. except agression. and that's all i saw. these stupid kids who try so fucking hard to be different. (together). with hurtful jewelry. and dyed hair. and plaid skirts. and yeah, i got a spiked red bracelet (oh, not black. i was an orginal punk rock girl you see) in april two thousand. i lost it seven months later. i'm glad i did.

and i don't know what's happened to me; but i'm glad it did.

just went back to being younger...not wanting what i saw. at all.

and that's why i'm dissapointed. because i thought i finally met someone who i wouldn't feel so alienated from. and i'm not sure if i'll see him again. sure he's not thinking about me. because i never think anyone does.

and it doesn't help that she says 'you are growing away from it all' and i'm not joining anything else. and sunday with him was really, really wonderful. and everything i thought about him before he left just doesn't dissapear. even if i've met other people. feelings for him just can't dissapear. i'm still hurt here knowing he doesn't want to spend time with me.

and i miss paul too. and this all seems very selfish right now. but i don't want them all to myself. i don't need them all to myself. just. to talk with again.

there's still just so much that i miss.

and i keep falling away from everything and loosely joining something else. and they don't care. at all.

it will be better, annie, really you'll be better off. (or will you?)

the only thing my we's meant to her was paul and i. paul and i. he's my only type grip. ever.

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