No title for this one. Love mixed with frustration, mixed with Hope, mixed with despair, mixed with knowledge, All messed up. What kind of emotions are these? Deep ones. Deep love. Deep frustration. Deep hope. Deep despair. Deep knowledge. These last two are the worst. Knowing what is, and despairing about it, Yet somehow hoping, agaisnt all odds, frustrated by the love that is still there, afater all that has happened, with all the knowledge, hanging on to the shred, the scrap, the tiny, nearly invisible, hope, the merest possibility that things will change, becoming everything that is perfect about Love. Why? Why is it so deep, so stong? Why is the love almost all that matters? Well, it is, like it of not, fun or not. And he wouldn't change it if he could. -Written August of 1996, with a note that this is a fake date. Meaning I don't really know the date, but based on where it is in the notebook, this is as close as I can get, because I didn't date it when I wrote it. Blah.
Thou mayest leave a message here which will get to the lord of this realm, via e-mail. You get an odd thought as you stand here: "This is all somehow related to or provided by Geocities."