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7:23 a.m. - July 26, 2000
I don't know what this is about

Not yet.

I struggle to maintain conversation, interior monologue and exterior dialogue both. It isn't that I'm disinterested or shy, simply uneasy and distrustful, reveal too much and display weaknesses discovered already, don't take chances and say This is me and my credo, I am this and that and yearn to be more, to feel more, to trust more, to live more.

Hyperbole and drama stripped; I feel like I'm wasting away, jumping at hope only after nailing both feet to the mangrove swamped by sea water.


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