Your scent is still here/ My place of recovery - 07.23.02 - 1:45 am

My new entry? OK.

First, go read May's entry about today. I had just stopped that liquid from rolling down my face and now, goddamnit, I think I'm going to drown.

Sometimes, it feels like just yesterday. Sometimes, I feel pathetic for feeling like it was just yesterday. And sometimes I feel very fuck it and how can I put an expiration date on grief or whatever the fuck I'm feeling right now. (That was supposed to be a question, but I don't really feel like asking it.)

You should have seen us tonight, man. May and I were sitting on the bench and pointing out whatever we thought could be some sign from the undead. Noises in the bushes, loud toads and cicadas, cold breezes, shadows, the smell of lilies when no lilies were to be found, the bush moving for no reason whatsoever. OK, the last one kinda freaked me out. It's like the branches were pulled back and let go. I watched it. May heard the snap.

Oh, and then there was that noise in the marble wall where all the dead people are. Like a plaque was hit. Something metal and creaky.

"If something busts through that shit, I'm going to be scared," I said, cuz I like stating the obvious.

Listen to me. I sound like a little kid describing the circus.


Today would have been K's 20th. Today which is not even three hours old.

I had told him on his last birthday that I was sorry I was out of town and, dude, next year I will totally make up for it.

I did make up for it, actually. If 'make up for it' means writing a long letter in red ink and burning it in my driveway at 2am cuz I believe ghosts can read smoke.

I swear I saw words tonight. When I tried to burn the part of the letter that said, "The duck says hi. Ha ha", he wouldn't let it. He always yelled at me for talking about Howie. Think it'll stop now that you're dead, bastard?


These words in my head are moving too fast for my fingers and sometimes these words are too heavy to even type at all. He's almost here. I'm almost there. There's this thin line between him and me that I'm scared to walk away from.

It shouldn't have ended like this.

Happy birthday, fuckface.

Totally Inappropriate Comment About A Boy

He was at the diner, tonight. He was watching me. I was shaking. I gave him a crooked smile. There was no exchange of spoken words. May and I drove out of the parking lot w/some rap song about tits and ass and "hitting it" blaring. It seemed right.

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