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Originally Posted: 9/24/07

I'm tired and I hardly beleive anything matters anymore. I think I've hit the last few strands. A little more counter-clockwise and I'll be all unwound. Then I can rest. Then everything will be alright. Its been so long since I started this spiral but its almost done. It has almost run its course and I suppose I can be grateful for that.

"I can't remember
I don't understand
Is it malice that makes you this way?
Carry it with you
Till someone forgives you
I laugh 'cause there's nothing to say."

I'm running out of places to run. Running out of things to tear apart. All the songs I wrote for you are in tatters. Everything I poured out on paper is scrap and scars and discarded because at the end of the day what does it count for? I just want to hear your voice sometimes and when I do, it never has anything nice to say about me. Maybe that's my fault. Maybe I'm not the man I thought I was. Maybe I'm something less. There are too many "maybes" for me, too many for me to bother with them as possibilities. Maybe someday, but not today.

I'm floating. I relate to the rain. Cascading.

Love,
Undisclosed