November 5th, 2001

It's the one thing;

Last week, one of my friends remarked that I seemed to be on the girlfriend frontier; cusp if you will. It's interesting, because I don't think I've ever quite felt so out of love in my life. As much occurred to me today while I was singing a song to myself that reminds me of my newest number one crush. I'm never so happy as when I'm falling in love, even when it's someone I know I have zero chance with (it's not zero! it's not zero! just keep repeating that!). Now I'm not saying I'm falling in love, no no no. That would be trouble for my poor little heart. But I've got that crusher's high, when you jump seeing something she wrote, or knowing she's online. I won't bore you with all the details; just know that it's a good feeling.

So I'm smiling, even though my head is killing me for the third consecutive day. That's all. Is it use? Abuse? I mean, I know I'm "using" her to feel good about myself; girls are one of my addictions. Heck, I was already crushing on a few chickies I've known for awhile, but then someone relatively new will rear her head and suddenly EVERYTHING IS BRIGHT AND LIKE IN A MUSICAL!!! Only less annoying. God, do I ever find musicals annoying.

Now the trick is, maybe, to find that one person with whom I can fall in love everyday, and crush until infinity1. Fresh and happy, but not Prozacked into a dull buzz of joy. There's ups, and there's downs, but in the end, I always come back around.

I need to write some really bad poetry now. Here's what I've got so far:

I bought into the dream;
I went ahead and fell for the next big thing


Right now is about the point where I wonder if I should keep typing. Maybe if the entry is long enough, she'll skim over it and not really read what I've written. I'd hate to have her think I'm a complete and total dork; I just want to write about the act of falling in love. Or crushing. Or whatever. I could care less what you think.

Yes, I wrote that correctly. I could care less, but I'll pretend for the Time Being that I couldn't.

Y'know what I mean?

It's just the act of flirting. A man needs it to feel alive. Whatever it brings, it brings. I'm just glad it's there.

1 And who doesn't like musicals2. Or at least won't make me sit through one.
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Humility

I promised you bad love poetry

Deeply spinning spirals
How my love's spread is viral
and the reflection in her eyes
always seems less chiral

I refuse to come to grips
with truth not spoken from her lips
Voice that plays on my spine
like moistened fingertips

Curse the light that splits the night
Can't you see I'll be alright?
Torn away from dreams of her
Cling to the sight, cling to the sight

My serrated heart
so easily torn apart
pierce me once; pierce me twice
bloody cupid's dart
(it's a start)

The bubbles in my champagne
Pop and scream her name
This fizzing noise inside
that's just her claim
(just what she's lain)

And I curse the light that splits the night
Can't you see I'll be alright?
Torn away from dreams of her
Cling to the sight, cling to the sight

There's a nothing about silence
That strikes me as wrong
I can find no words but she
is the song
and I sing along

Curse the light that split the night
Can't you see I'll be alright?
Torn away from dreams of her
Cling to the sight, cling to the sight

Cling to the night; cling to the right
I can't wait to lose this fight
and I sing along
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