huh?... yeah, well, hearing from someone I corresponded with way back in last millenium is a great motivator for me... the dreamer in me wishes everyone I went to school with from nursery through college had a web site or at least a diaryland diary so we could keep up with each others lives and leave each other notes and maintain that level of continuity in our lives...

of course it would probably be much like school wherein most of the people would be out there and we'd kind of known each other, but we wouldn't feel attracted to read them regularly and just focus on the few people who touch our hearts (or some part of us)... but to maintain the connections, to be in touch with people who knew me before and during and after all the various changes that happen in life, I think that would be so cool...

suddenly I am hearing grow old along with me...

another song to add... so many songs must be added to the soundtrack of a life before it could even begin to be representative of the actual soundtrack of this life that I've known... it would be so much easier if the soundtracks already taped were available to me, but that is one of the suckier aspects of remembering all the details of what happened in a life...

once there was a way to get back home...

sometimes I wonder if there was ever any sort of person worth loving (read: worshipping as a god in a soulmate relationship... or else read: trusted unconditionally as a true friend deserving loyalty and respect and praise and support and... ya know?)... sometimes I wonder if maybe I deserved to be betrayed, taken for everything I had, humiliated and stripped of every bit of dignity and self-respect and self-esteem I ever had because it was never real and I did not deserve any of it... sometimes I wonder if maybe I deserve to be beaten and left for dead on some dark street somewhere...

what?... you don't have any self-doubts?...

there was a time when I though I had none... maybe that was the illusion... maybe that was all an ego-trip, the confidence, the security, the sense of self-worth...

I did give everything away without fear or hesitation...

and now I wonder if I have any... maybe all the insecurity and whining and self-pity and expressions of self-doubt are the illusion... maybe it's all some feeble attempt to seduce your heart and inspire you to reach out and help me somehow...

support your rambling fool, send your pennies and dollars to
PO Box 780398, Orlando FL, 32878

and maybe I just make it all up as I go along...

but those who've taken the time to know me, to visit me in the physical world and share honestly and openly, to correspond (in those days when i was trusting personal correspondence) for hundreds of pages full of all the things we know (or knew) about each other... you know me... maybe even better than I know myself (or close)...

yes, I remember you, dear friends through words and visits... and even more, I remember those who shared life... maybe someday we will all have diaries here or at least web sites somewhere... and we'll all be back in touch again... and then, you can remind me who I am...

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)