ypsilanti's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (heart)/hand it's truly not the heat, it's totally the humidity. and it's not the actual break you feel, just the ache that stays there for the rest of your life, to varying degrees. tour was amazing. not too long, but long enough. i missed almost everyone, but i sure as fuck did not miss gj. a book could be written about all the things that happened and are happening, but what a boring, sad book it would turn out to be. one thing was that my mom said she did a search for "saturday looks good to me" on the computer, and was amazed to see that "other people actually knew about the band!" it was so sweet and charm. she then said that one of the reviews she read linked to "diaryland" and she read some of the "ypsilanti" writing. even my mom reads this shit. who knew. i realized there was a lot of stuff on here that i wonder if i want my mom to know or not, but then i thought.. yeah. fuck it. what a sad life it would be if i was comfortable with anyone with access to a computer reading all my serious sleepy diatribes, but not my own mom. i have nothing to hide and no one to hide from. ask me any question, write me a letter, i'll write you a song. i am really upset. it's the typical thing where you're looking down and you have either half of the part of you that's in the shape of ohio in either part of you that's in the shape of michigan. here we are again. i ate mostly strawberries today. i walked around with bryce for a long time and it felt good to be outside and talk to a friend. i have yet to run into gj, which is fine by me. that little motherfucker is probably still talking shit and didn't even know i was gone. fuck G,J. 2:07 a.m. - 6.28.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||