Ooh. I have yet another story to tell.

While I was writing yesterday's entry, Sasha was talking to Ivan, of whom I had blocked. She was copying and pasting the conversation to me, which made me angrier and angrier, and so the entry droned on. Eventually I unblocked him, and we talked, and we talked, and we talked. And talked, and talked, and.. talked. Ended up on the consensus that we were going to get back together. Conveniently, the phone rang, it was Will. I explained everything to him and told him I was sorry many times over, and if he wanted to talk about anything I am open for discussion. He was sad. I felt bad... but we sad 'bye' and I returned to my online conversations, he, I later found out, called Abbie. Happy Liz, everything worked out, except for Will, rrr, I wish there was something I could do about that... I feel bad about using him, and that's one of the most hypocritical things I have ever done because I was all "Ivan used me" a few weeks ago. I wanted to talk to Will today, but I didn't know what to start off with, and it is only natural that he'd be angry with me and not want to talk to me anyway, so I guess it was for the best.

I came home today after school and got some soda and sat down and got this sudden weird and random inspiration, and I wrote a poem. The first real poem that I have written in a long time.

Honest accusations � argued untrue � innocent misdemeanor � the mocked are the mimicked with you

Spider of deceit � weaving webs of lies � your words are your companions � that needn't be justified

Unintended murder � of an individual soul � sleeping to smell the coffee � hold tight then lose control

The fire all around you � charrs your flammable heart � nodding your head in agreement � you refuse to play your part

You're so very unbelievable � don't let go of me so soon � an abundance of nothing inside you � Dark light reflects from the moon

Faster still I'm running � spikes pretend to be smooth � from the start of life we begin to die � the mocked are the mimicked with you

And, later on, I was bored and thought of a beat, ta-teeteeteetee ta ta...

Laugh in the valley of death � Mourn on the mountain of life � don't fear your very last breath � -smile wide- for you're stuck in this strife...

play with a treatorous match � doused in the liquid of fire � wounds that need to be patched � -shut up- for you're preaching to the choir...

That's all I wrote, I don't know where it came from. Because, I never write poetry ever, so, yeah...

Today was a really good day, but, I am afraid of tomorrow, what if history repeats itself? What if we end up where we were a week beforehand? Why am I being so paranoid?

I put one of the poems in my profile, because I am proud of my one real poem, one real for the hell of it, not for school poem.

Sorry! obsessed, I know.

Anyway, I'm off to talk to people, and to start another night of online-ness.

(_iz

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