Tuesday Apr 27, 2004

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As is my way,

Her eyes shine with a twinkle of mischief in the sweetest way, to talk to her is like hearing the angels singing just to me.

Just being near her makes me feel like the world's problems don't exhist.

She'll never know how I feel, so I am here with my heart in my hands always wondering what was never to be.

This is not a depression at it's best this is just my life.

how strange it is, to know so little yet so much and feel so far and so isolated.

If I could change and be right for her it would not take a moment for me to consider, I'm old and tired and have nothing to offer except what is in my heart surround by this useless exterior.

Right now talking to her is like screaming through a glass wall, the words are there but cannot be heard.

I never intended to be this way, I wanted to be positive I wanted to be witty I wanted to be wanted.

I wanted too much. blackeyed


so where does that leave me? without a clue indeed.

Do I deserve to be happy? no I can't say that I think I do.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
bondgirl:
about my hands...
yes, I know, I should get my condition cleared up but, damn, they look sooooo good with my eyes. smile
bondgirl
troubadour:
Woo! Who do you think you are Fred Durst? I hate to dispence with the love tough but this routine does not wash with me, I've enjoyed your company and have seen others do so to, and I've seen the ladies flirt with you but you seem blind to this. You're clever and well travelled but you've build up this image in your head that you're a lump of shit. If this shiny eyed bint does not give a steaming stream of monkey piss about you then fuck her cos it's her loss!! It's time to pull your heart out of your ass and place it neaty on your sleve, it's gonna take some balls cos it's gonna get pummelled a few time but you gotta get up and dust yourself off and on to the next. And don't tell I'm too young to know because I'm speaking without corruption! Don't tell me your too old/fat/ugly etc cos guess what pal: there are fatter, uglier, older men than you. So if you want happiness then you gotta look real hard and if you even so much as smell it then grab it by the bollocks and squeeze it till your hands bleed.

This is the road on which the Troubadour walks...

[Edited on Apr 28, 2004 1:28PM]

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