The Brilliant Dance
Thursday, May. 02, 2002 ~ 5:34 p.m.
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Dear . . . well, it should be obvious. Sometimes things get so frustrating that you just get tired. These past two days tired me more than anything has in a very very long time. It's not right. I let you know that I thought it wasn't right. I even suggested a solution that would have been best. It's just so fucking frustrating that it happened anyway. The way that it happened was probably even worse. He wasn't given a choice at all . . . well, other than to be shunted off to somewhere else where hardly any of his friends go. Just a question. If I were to answer yes to that question, and leave . . . if I changed my mind a few months from now would you lock me out too without word . . . since the board is now a members only board. She just sighs and shakes her head, knowing she's probably going to eat these words later. Nevermind that. I'm stubborn. Especially when it comes to things that I can't see being right in anyway what-so-ever.
If you read yesterday's entry, you probably know what this is about. If not, you can go read it now. Either way. It doesn't really matter if you choose to keep yourself in the dark. I just can't believe that all happened. Anyway it could have been said, it would have been heard as "You're not welcome here." It just makes me want to cry 'cause I'm so frustrated. It's also 'cause I'm so frustrated that I can't cry. Of course that just makes things worse. I think that if I keep writing, I'll end up saying stuff that no one else should really hear. I'm not supposed to say things that sound like that. And if I got started, I'd say stuff that I'd regret later 'cause I'm angry and frustrated. Simple solution . . . deleted . . . simple enough except that I don't delete anything. I don't edit anything. It wouldn't be a diary if I did that. I just need to cool down a bit before I start to get into all that. One last thing to leave you with. For the first time in a very long time I changed the signature I use at the boards. I took parts of this song to make it. The Brilliant Dance
Dashboard Confessional So this is odd,
the painful realization that all has gone wrong.
And nobody cares at all, and nobody cares at all.
So you buried all your lovers clothes
and burned the letter's lover's wrote,
but it doesn't make it any better.
Does it make it any better?
And the plaster dented from your fist
in the hall where you had your first kiss
reminds you that the memories will fade. So this is strange,
our sidestepping has come to be a brilliant dance
where nobody leads at all,
where nobody leads at all. And the picture frames are facing down
and the ringing from this empty sound
is deafening and keeping you from sleep.
And breathing is a foreign task
and thinking's just too much to ask
and you're measuring your minutes by a clock that blinking eights. This is incredible.
Starving, insatiable,
yes, this is love for the first time. Well, you'd like to think that you were invincible.
Yeah, well weren't we all once
before we felt loss for the first time.
Well this is the last time. Oh! One last thing. (Yes, this is really the last thing) Happy Birthday William (Willy-boy, Billiam, Billy, Will, etc...) 0 comments so far   
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