What to write?
(2002-09-05 - 9:25 p.m.)

It's odd how when you really want to sit down and write something lengthy in here, you can never think of what it is you want to write.

I don't want to spend another entry dwelling on death and funerals. He is loved. He is dead. We'll mourn. Time will continue to rumble on. He won't be forgotten.

* * * * *

I feel extrememly lucky in a way. It truly, properly struck me today that there are many people out there that care. And somewhere in me I've always thought that to be true. But there's knowing, and then there's knowing.

And for once I finally feel like I'm growing into my skin. It's taken me 22 years to start feeling like I belong in here, but there is a glimmer of something in there. Hope? Love? I'm not sure. Lots of the insecurities still haunt me. But it feels like, in time, they won't seem so important.

* * * * *

Currently spinning: This month's Uncut cover CD.

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