on 1.29.04 @ 9:21 p.m.
This is my heart.
What topic should we cover today? My countless obsessions? Or countless issues? Or countless unspeakables? Nah. All the same thing anyway. Let's focus on hope. This sentence I'm typing right now was "Or what's left of it anyway," but that would be a lie. That would be the self-pity of a romantic, or a drama queen. Which in a sense, is both me. I am a romantic in that I like to romanticize. Ordinary gestures can becom bold declarations of love in my mind. I can too be a drama queen. Not often to others, but to myself mostly. Or that's what I'd like to believe. I wonder if people ever take me seriously? Often I give up. I turn a serious tone into a joke. Because people don't care about you when you're serious, but they do at least give a little attention to you when you're funny. Oh dear, I've blabbered again. Back on track.
Hope.
I like to think I have a lot of it. If I didn't, I would never pray. I would never do that "wish upon a star" thing which I just did when we were coming back from dinner. Heck, sometimes it's "wish upon the airplane lights" which works just as well. But many hopes have been shattered, but most of them are rebuilt as days go by. I'm thankful for that. I don't feel like writing anymore. Having a heavy heart is a very burdensome task.
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