Entry 3:
Sorrow, such sweet sorrowHello and welcome to page 2! On with the comments and remarks and ramblings and...I'll stop with the pointless intro now.
-Sincerely, Puckfly
The last thought posted below was on: 08/20/99
Entry 3:
Sorrow, such sweet sorrow
Well, I knew it was bound to happen. A mistaken action and all of a sudden things turn sour. I can interpret many things and justify them in my mind, but as a wise man once told me..it isn't always the message that's important, but rather the way the message is interpreted. In this case it was an action, or lack of that has spawned a rift. I can't tell if this rift is permanent, but it apparently matters not at this point.
The strangest thing is, no matter how I try and communicate my feelings, the words seem cliched and lifted from any number of Hallmark cards. Well, I will continue to suffer and may the other party rest easy tonight. There is no rest for the damned souls of the night.
Now it seems that I cannot babble on and on about this unimportant event without making an ounce of sense, so I will stop now and dream of the next photo shoot...when the camera is finally repaired...which, God willing will be shortly...
Entry 4:Entranced, and under a
spell
I sit before the keyboard, listening to the sound of the crickets and various other night creatures creep through the window, and I suddenly remembered why I began writing this little scribble. I had been dwelling upon a chance meeting with a female "friend" (whom I won't mention until she gives me the ok), when a familiar scent wafted up my nose. It was the same flowery perfume that she was wearing today and which caught my attention. As we talked I noticed her eyes, and how they became, not so much as eyes anymore, but a maze of emotion to get lost in.
Lost in them I was, and I couldn't concentrate to save my (un)life. She had me under a mystical spell, and I feel as if I have betrayed the one known only as Jenny. Forgive me, for I was powerless and did not know what I was doing. But all will be over in a matter of weeks, as she departs for lands further than my dreams know, and it will become tearful for me. I feel as if she is a drug and I'm addicted. Is it possible to feel this way with only minimum skin contact?
Entry 4.1:Rage
Why must I be tortured by people claiming to be "friends"? Why have they written and said the things they have? Don't they realize how much pain this puts me through? I feel that what was written was uncalled for and unjust.
How dare you attack someone when they are not able to defend themselves? I will not lower myself to your level of deceit, sir.
You have lost all respect from me and from my ilk. You are outcast. I shall utter your name no further from this point on. You are indeed damned.