11:07 am - Thursday, Dec. 05, 2002
Song:
Share your piece for extra credit. I can�t. I haven�t the slightest need for their claps. I don�t want the class to consume what my paper holds. No, I want to go back and write it again. I should be able to.
I want to swim in warm salt water, because I never have. I wonder if I can drive to that place on my half tank of gas. But I know I can�t. I have to drum myself into others words and deny wanting my words heard and do what I need for school.
I need that bit of gas money to save for the repair / replacement of my mother�s digital camera since I shattered the LCD screen and have yet to tell her.
I don�t know why I did what I just did. Stand up and share a paragraph of writing. My hands still shake, why do my nerves do this to me?
Manila. Chris� family, correct? The Philippines. Do they have warm salt water for me?
No, I�m repeating myself. I�m losing my way. Where�s my heart pounding off to? I�ve lost my hands grasp and how they drip purple, and I wonder what the means.