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There was a time when courtesy and winning ways went out of style

Why does everything I write have to be so fucking nostalgic, bittersweet, redundant, and sentimental? Maybe I am too hard on myself but that's only because I know I can do better.

Do I actually know that or do I trick myself into believing that? Same thing who cares.

How self-centered can a person be? The world is dying, polar ice caps melting, trees getting cut down so I can eat 65% dark chocolate and some shitty, sugary coffee.

I may've said that I take these writing classes because I like to compete but what I didn't mention is that the person I most like to compete with is myself. I guess that goes without saying.

And another thing, I can't write a single word these days without a fucking audience. Not even my real diary is safe. What is ever really private? Is it good or bad? Does good or bad exist? I actually don't think they exist, sorry.

When I walk down the street and listen to my ipod I pretend that I'm singing along to my own band. In a really good dream I'll be on stage sweaty and screaming. I won't feel nervous or scared. I will like all my songs.

But for now I am engulfed in language and feelings. Ugh. Words upon words about letters and sentences and commas and all of it. The backbone of the human spirit and blah blah blah. It feels like a prison sometimes.

One day I hope I know what it's like to feel alive instead of just trying to describe it and trying to get everyone to understand and relate to being alive. You know what I mean? Like maybe one day I'll just be in it.

I always feel so around it.

4:42 p.m. - 2006-01-14

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