sigma A greek letter, a math symbol indicating 'set' or all inclusive. Sigma. Tri-Sig sorority. Sigma Pi, a fraternity. A girl who's patience is like the wind, thin and thready and fleeting, who is quiet and loud and still growing up. Sigma. My name. A nickname given by David Schwerin. Sigma.

sigma With one or two I get used to the room. We go slow when we first make our moves. But five or six bring you out to the car. Number nine with my head on the bar. And it's sad, but true. Out of cash and I owe. I got you. Desperate desires and unadmirable plans. My tongue will taste the gin and malicious intent. Bring you back to the bar. Get you out of the cold. A sober straight face gets you out of your clothes. And they're scared that we know all the crimes they'll commit. Who they'll kiss before they get home. I will lie awake. Lie for fun and fake the way I hold you. Then you'll fall for every empty word I say. Barely conscious in the door where you stand. Your eyes are filing sleep while your mouth makes your demands. You laugh at every word, trying hard to be cute. I almost feel sorry for what I'm gonna do. And your hair smells of smoke. Who will cast the first stone? You can't sit or spend the night all alone. Brass buttons on your coat hold the cold in the shape of a heart that they cut out of stone.
You're using all your looks that you've thrown from the start. If you let me have my way, I swear I'll tear you apart. Cause it's all you can be. You're a drunk and you're scared. It's ladies night. All the girls drink for free. I will lie awake. Lie for fun and fake the way I hold you. Then you'll fall for every empty word I say.

empty, used, sad and cruel.
that's me too.
sigma I guess I like to think I have standards, or willpower,

but really
it's all a giant illusion, and I'm not Donnie Darko, and even now I doubt

if I ever wished I was.
blah-ze i learned to drive in an old, rusty, beat up orange sigma.

sorry to intrude on your blathe, btw.
sigma if you really were sorry, i don't think you would have done it.

but i've done more terrible things in my time, and who am i to judge? once, i wrote this piece on the nickname he had for me, and being a foreign name i thought it would be safe. instead, this person wrote nonsense, wrote about stinky underarms after it. so there was my heartache, and there was her rambling. amusing?

i wonder.

so when you write about your orange rusty nonsensical words, are you even going to remember them tomorrow? does anyone care about it? whereas i will have to look at them for a very long time...but again, it's not my place to judge.

nothing special lasts forever, anyway. this also, is part of me- regret.

aren't you amused, Fate, that two simple sentences from a stranger can make me cry, simply because my silence has now been broken. but this place is not mine. that, dear friends, is the rationale.
alphamale you keep saying how this place isn't exclusively yours, but keep complaining about it. crying about it won't undo anything, and repeating that you shouldn't judge doesn't keep you from being whiny. waawaawaaa. grow up. 030919
sigma nah, i think i'll grow up some other day. everyone has to do it eventually. there's no reason to rush the process.

i'd say i was sorry i offended you, but i'm not really sorry, and i prefer honesty to apologizing. to use a rather extreme example, if someone dies, aren't you said? but dying's a part of life and everyone recognizes that, yes? the privacy of my name is gone. that's a little regrettable, i should think. but at least i didn't go and attack the person who wrote back, like you did.

besides. this is blather, is it not? we're all free to say what we like. i'm just a little sad that what people have to say isn't, the word?...substantial. but then people often say a lot and mean very little. i forget where that quote is from, but it's rather accurate.

still, that someone like you felt the need to speak, says something too, and that makes me laugh...
sigma i guess this only drives the fact home that this place has outgrown itself and the people here i used to know are gone or different now. in retrospect, it was always dangerous to post inner truths in front of strangers. it's like i only have one last place in the world.

it was a great experiment, but it only proved things of life that people knew...people cheat, people are unkind, and people don't care to look deeper than the surface.

I think I will stop writing for my name, because it's hard to define people exactly anyway. Even if I am myself, and supposedly, I understand Me more than anyone, I don't think I understand myself at all. I'm not that complex, necessarily, just not well-equipped for soul-searching. Funny that I do so much of it.

Who knew it could be so personal, giving up a name?
what's it to you?
who go