Sunday, June 18, 1989

For Tina (6-18-89 sappy Cult Era love poetry)


When I think about you, it only gets me in trouble
‘Cause I get distracted and my temptations double
It’s not a crime to wish we were more
Than distant brothers and sisters in the Lord

It’s only my selfishness that makes me scared to try
To really get closer, for fear I’ll be denied
But I keep alive a small hope that you think of me
Once in a while or at least occasionally

Years have gone by since I’ve had feelings for you
I’ve seen you get older, I’ve gotten older too
I’ve been resigned to observing, and I’ve tried
Not to let you know how I really feel inside

For every fool, there’s someone who adores
Every foolish thing they do, who knows what for
But I’m more the fool for thinking that my dreams can come true

So when you see me, giggle as I sigh
You won’t see as I break down and cry
But I’ll be harder to be seen through by you the next time

Drug addled thinking and gaps in my journal (1989-1993)


“Every day, every day, every day I write the book…” 6-18-89

NO, YOU DON'T, LIAR. Every day, my ass.