3:09 pm - Friday, Jul. 16, 2004
Song: Clarity - Howie Day
I find myself with a written journal open, and this page flashing its little cursor, and I need to write, but I�m empty. Maybe that�s a bit melodramatic, I don�t want to paint the wrong idea here. I am not attempting to be some angsty little thing. I am simply devoid of a topic.
That�s not so strange now is it. I�m not living a wild life, and I�m not in school so most dramas I have are ones that anger me, but at no point do I address that person with the issue. Summer time friendships are much different then those during the school year. During the summer, there isn�t any telling when you�ll be home, when you and this person will separate. There�s no homework to do that night, and you feel the need to make plans with people who normally you would call friend simply because you see them each day.
Not that I�ve thought very highly of friendship lately. I�ve begun clinging to a select few people, and finding ways to be hurt by those I may otherwise be around. It�s not even truly that I am searching for these pains, but that I see them and I don�t know how to say, hey this isn�t right, so I sit in them silently. This leaves me feeling empty, bringing us up to now. Bring us to three o�clock in the after noon and I can�t say I�ve done anything productive. Haven�t cleaned, haven�t had anything to eat, I�ve simply finished one book and begun another.
The strongest friendship you have during the summer is that with yourself.
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