PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

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Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004
written 08-08-04 1:59 p.m.

Since 2001-08-04 - 4:45 p.m. , 3 years ago, when I posted my first entry on my original poetical diary I have been writing about my life for public consumption. I have openly shared my thoughts, my feelings, my downfalls, my achievements. I did so at the advice of a therapist I had named Bernie. Bernie is long gone and I have come to the realization that in my attempts to help myself I have hurt people that I have loved since 2001 in one way shape or form by writing openly online.

Not at the request of anyone or the urging of anyone else I have decided myself to end this diary in the interest of my own well being. The danger in having an online website is merely in the true self exploring and somehow in that process we splatter other peoples lives and feelings throughout the pages of our own words. It is one thing to be angry in the moment, to be happy joyful in the minute but somehow sometimes when we write these things down we hurt people that ten minutes later we are no longer angry with and in that process we are stuck in a circular momentum of emotions that are hurting other people.

I never intentionally wrote anything to hurt anyone, nor did I ever realize how damaging it all could be until recently.

I have plenty of paper and tons of pens and will continue on my own for my own well being to explore who I am. I might even write on my own laptop and compile that into a fictional novel one day. Who can say?

I think about the countless hours I have been absorbed in this process and the eventual outcome has not been highly rewarding. While I have made internet friends, I have shrunk into the corner of my own life instead of being within it and an entire part of the world around me. I intend to go back to that reality where names have faces and voices have moving mouths I can see. My words of confusing moments and feelings, sometimes other�s have read them as a freak show, they were not a circus act but rather my own life. Other�s came here and found amusement in my own pain. Still others related and came to me with open and honest and sincere shows of support. Regardless, I am in my life alone, alone and through my own fault. I have been given plenty of opportunities to be loved, love in return and have all that I have wanted and in my confusion I have failed miserably to love fully in return. For those things there are no apologies that can fix the mistakes I have made. I can only go forward and do my best to always do the right things, the virtuous things. I can only clean my messy room in hopes that someday I will be without confusion.

I abandon this place I have sought refuse in because the refuse has never truly been here. It�s a false world at best. While all things do have positive aspects for me those positives have only come in the form of Sandy and Dan. To them I thank you for listening to me, being there for me, encouraging me and for showing me that unconditional friendships can exist.

I want to publicly apologize to anyone and everyone I have talked about in my diary and hurt through that process. I want R to know that I love him. I always will no matter what the eventual outcome of our relationship is. He is an amazing person with a heart as big as the world. It was never a harmful relationship that we had, but rather he was everything and I didn�t have the strength to have complete faith that a love like that could exist. I hope that I have a chance to love him back the way he most deserves. I have only been blessed to have been near him. He truly never deserved the backlash of words he got here from strangers who have never met him nor know him.

I always wanted to write a best selling novel whereby leaving the end as a cliffhanger. I don�t end now with the intention of leaving a cliff hanger ending although I realize that�s just as it is left. Sometimes we jump and we have to have faith that we will not crash and burn. Sometimes the ending just happens without fireworks and glory.

one smoke filled patio
saturday night conversation
hot muggy air...

blue chairs rocking
listening two
listening�to
you
and two boys
in the
living room

that was life�
that was life�

i'm sorry.
7:12 p.m. ::
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