04.01.03 - 9:09 p.m. - no la tengo.

i haven't felt like writing lately.
i've felt too inarticulate and useless.

sylvia says that's endearing,
but it isn't like she's dating me as a result of it.

what the fuck am i doing? i used to write shit. it was shit, but at least i had crappy poetry to show for it. i miss being one of those sappy guys who scrawled into notebooks in the middle of the night. i know i make fun of bad poets, but you have to respect them for doing something and actually meaning it even if it is not artistic genius.

and this war is pissing me off too. i'm tired of this.

ok. diary, want to know the real reason why i am pissed off? it's because sylvia rejected me for what feels like the seventeenth time but is actually only the fifth.

dokko: franklin you ass, what posessed you to try five times?

franklin: oh, i don't know. maybe it's because we made out in her room. and at school. several times. and she's always talking about how "great" she thinks i am.

i feel like i'm kissing her with my hands tied behind my back,
holding her hands without holding onto anything real.
this arrangement is absurd but i can't say no.

maybe this is normal.
i mean, i hear about this happening all the time.
i'm not used to this.
maybe i'm getting older.

troz - diaryland - zort