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[13 Jul 2003|09:24pm] I feel so strange, so empty again, the old feelings are back with such force I feel I will be sucked under. Nothing is inside, and I am used to that. I guess I thought a baby would change the taste of this life, I was wrong. Now I just have someone dependant on me, when I can't even figure out myself. But I will adapt, I always do. No poetry yet though, there is none to be had. All that comes from my pen are doodles and strange sentences about light and air and tire swings. post comment

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