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No use for a name 10:41 p.m. 2003-09-12 I realized that everything I wrote about you was a waste of time, every time i thought of you a moment i wasted. I was never more than a passing aquatance, was i? And it didn't hurt you to tell me otherwise, because i was far away and i'd never know you were lying. I hate how it still matters, and how i really don't care anymore, unless i read the things you wrote. Your words still carry some memory. Tonight i've spent my entire life observing and I missed that crucial stage when you get to learn everything. I was too interested in the complexities of the mental aspect of relationships and too late i realize i've neglected to come to understand the workings of the physical. I missed that train of thought, the one with the desire. Oh well, looking back on my life before i die, will there be anything there except wasted years? back & forth |