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Stranger than Fiction

It's amazing how quickly things can change, and the degree to which they have seems almost impossible.

I wrote in September that there were so many amazing things happening in my life. There was so much ahead, so much to be excited about. I was... Happy. For the first time ever, everything was right.

All of that is gone, now.



It seems I only ever write during the depressing times, without hardly ever mentioning the good ones. That's something I plan on changing.

Many of my friends, family members, and acquaintances have been pushing me to write a novel, a memoir, or what have you. I'm finally getting started. I don't know whether or not I want to publish it as fiction... I guess that's the theme of this entry, and the title is fitting.

My life... it's all true. Sometimes I can't believe these things are really, actually, literally, happening to me. I feel so disassociated from myself, as if I'm out-of-body, watching structures crumble around me from another perspective.

It's stranger than fiction.


I'm coming back to Live Journal on a permanent basis. I miss the privacy. I miss the customization. I miss the HTML coding and 100x100 user pics. I miss how I used to pour my soul out and create some of my best work... and it's all still here, just waiting to be remembered and rediscovered, edited and compiled into one big book of truths.

I miss the freedom of writing. I miss playing with words and arranging the simplest of phrases to compose the most complex of thoughts. I've watched my writing evolve over 10 years of using this site and it's empowering to look way back and say "wow... I wrote that?" And then I think of all the things I will write in time.

My skills were maturing wonderfully... and I stopped writing for a year. But writing is just like riding a bike, really. As soon as I'm alone in a room with a keyboard, it's all downhill from there...

There's some powerful stuff I want to write, perhaps more eye-opening than anything I've written before. I have to get it out now while my wounds are still fleshy and raw.

I'm going to be writing more now that I ever have in my life.

I promise it will change your life forever.

Hello... is there any body out there?

It's been like a year since I updated. That's a first.

Sorry to neglect you, Live Journal. I really regret not chronicling the past year or so of my life like I should have. A lot of very awesome things have been happening... And I've left you out of them all.

I suppose the one who really got hurt here is me. Damn you, Kristin, Damn you for not journaling.

Between Pandora, Facebook, Myspace, and YouTube, you got lost somewhere along the way after 7 faithful years. Facebook is SO much more addictive than Myspace, by the way, and I don't know why. It doesn't have personalized profiles, a music section, or a blogging tool. Note's suck. And I don't even like applications. I suspect foul play. They must know people who know people who are in a major motion picture now entitled, "The Social Network."

Texts From Last Night is a really fucking great idea. I could read that crazy shit all damn day.

And you're exactly how I remembered you, without super fancy upgrades. It's nice not logging in after awhile and having to learn how to use the site again because it's-just-been-that-damn-long.

I wonder if I still remember how to do an lj-cut without looking at the FAQ?

Can you see me?Collapse )


I wish Anna was still here.

That's why it hurts to come here, I think.

It makes me think about her.

I read her journal again the other night.

It made me think about other things.

I wish everyone still wrote like they used to.

You must get lonely.

I need some new friends.

(Seriously, I only have 33. I only trust people I know in real life.)

Maybe I should join some writing communities.

I've been itching to write.

That's when I remembered you.

You've always been there.


"Don't think about all those things you feel. Just be glad to be here."

More pics under the cutCollapse )

I still can't believe it. I'm in shock. I've lost 2 best friends in less than a year.

I'm still grieving my father 2 and a half years later.... and I'll be grieving for her for a long time, too. I wish I could have held her, but there's always "what if" and "I shoulda..."

But it's too late for that.
Mark and I were driving down MLK in Tampa. We were almost to his house. Before we crossed 50th, there was a huge cemetery that stretched on both sides of the road for half a mile. Having lost several people including my father, I view cemeteries with respect, and if I happen to be passing one, I always look to see if any one else visits. It doesn't happen that often, cemeteries are usually empty except for maintenance crews and a rare family member or friend dropping by for a visit to put flowers on the headstone. I saw no one in this huge cometary and mausoleum. I was sad for all those that were buried there. Almost to the very end, I see a man in a brown suit standing over a grave with his hands in his pockets, looking downward at the headstone of some loved one, all alone, no one with him or even close by.

I know exactly how he feels.

Tim's funeral is tomorrowCollapse )

Friends Only.

I created this journal for many reasons. Those reasons will come. My old journal is now closed.

Jessica says:

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Photo taken at Trip Park, 2/23/06. My best friend!

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