on 2004-06-29 @ 3:39 p.m.
If this diary was made public. I'd really think of myself as an attention whore. But I'd like to think that I'm not one. Because this diary is personal. More personal than my personal diary sometimes. The two combined makes something so personal, it should never by uttered aloud.
Men with calloused hands and thin lips and long fingers and messy hair. Are extraordinarily sexy.
Tall and lanky and subtlely toned... isn't that my dream man... Now I'm just being shallow.
If I were an artist I would capture this moment.
The prelude to rain is wonderful. The aftermath of rain is extraordinarily beautiful.
Maybe I'm just a dreamer. Scratch the maybe.
I don't like it when people write personal things for everyone to read. I relish in the few... I like this. This personal space. Knowing that maybe one or two people do read. Knowing that most people are in the dark.
My secret. Forever.
Unless these really do become