let_it_out no reason honesty is the theme of 2009 090318 ... no reason yell and throw things and yell and throw things and yell and throw things 090318 ... unhinged it does feel better. i used to hold everything inside; i was the fester queen. in recent months, if people are pissing me off i tell them why. what they do with that information is their business. 090318 ... ungreat I've gotta let it out somewhere. It's eating away at my brain. All I can do is dream and think about you and how we were never timed right and if it even matters. I am married now and have a baby, who the fuck am I to have a wandering eye, but dear god it rolls right out of the socket every chance it gets, sending messages back to my brain of what ifs and pastel colored country sides with the illustrated man. I don't know why I just wanna be with him just once-just once. I don't trust him, and I never really sewed my wild oats but I can't imagine living a life where every day I'm lying to the man I'm supposed to love. But what do I do when I'm not even sure what love is? Is it this achey sick feeling in the bottom of my stomach that burns at night because I know the right choice is to go without? I'm taken so for granted, like nothing I do matters and when I look at the man that I vowed to all I see is his mother's evil snarky face these days, and years of being damaged as a child. All I do is hate myself more, and live in my head more. I had to let it out so maybe putting it all somewhere will mean my brain can quit sending these fanciful dreams from one lobe to the next and back. But I think about the illustrated man all the time and when I have these intense amazing dreams it feels like some how we're connected because he always finds me after. I can't help but imagine his face when we fuck, and imagine how his body moves and the rhythm and how every inch of him would feel. I know I'm not going to ever find out. I know I'll remain faithful. But don't tempt me because the line these days is thin and right and wrong are starting to blur. 110707 what's it to you? who go blather from