6 April 2000

Dear God,

Are the blessings of my life, from the twists and cords of our brain's imagination? Do outer forces rule the steps I take, my thoughts I throw? Can I create my world, and say it's yours?

I'm yours.

I thank you for my passions, my love I look in eyes, I pass the boys and girls all day, like whispering to me, my spies. My heart it bleeds, itself my life, but somewhere that swell begins, my ear for others strife. I lead my life, consciousness, precious self, accomplishments. The world I dis-attach, in turn I disconnect, but the winds whirl, and I'm thrown back. The tears I hold are for love assured, I can't explain my lust for life, this being more adored. I've given up regret, low worth, positivity assured. My agnst will flair one day again, but for now, I free myself from that sin. My lord, my one it rests with you, it's not blind faith, for each person holds for them what's true. Open eyes, comfort cries, release disguise, answer why's, there's no [good] byes, no one dies.

The absolute, my wonder, awe. Thank you.

I was reading through all these diaries, and I started to get sick of all the unhappiness. In a time of my life where everything is 'going right' I think we (I) forget to be thankful. So here's to good things, genuine nice guys who treat you right. Friends who forgive and love you, crazy experiences and a dose of luck!