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Below are the most recent 2 friends' journal entries.

    Tuesday, December 15th, 2009
    stolenpicnic
    5:54a
    Neither Here Nor There

    Old friend we used to talk.

    And there was a time I'd write down all my thoughts. I don't know that I thought half as much as I felt or did so much as I wished. Somehow I've spent more time thinking than I've thought while spending time. Herein lies my problem, or maybe my problems are only perceived. Either way I'm here again awake anticipating the sun at any moment (I could go at any time, you know. Any time). It's almost like no matter how many times I change my timezone over how many years, and no matter where I go, here I'll be. Waiting. Or thinking. Or thinking about how to wait. Or waiting to find out what to think. I know I'm not asleep. And since I'm not asleep, I'm not dreaming. But when I am asleep, dream do I ever! And you had floated so far away on that big black wave in the middle of the sea after the last time you saved me. And it was in a dream. Always in dreams. But I fell asleep yesterday instead of being awake, and for that, they sent the ghosts. Can't win for winning, they say. That, and to always expect to lose. (But, no really, who are "they" anyway?) They are the ones that come like thieves to take away even the rain from the parades. And no matter how much of other men's treasure they snatch, they are always miserable. They profess their undying love in the same breath as to assure that is such only because of just that: it simply will not die. They say they would be free of their cages if not for the birds that force them in. They ask that we watch their trainwreck with hope and merriment and when we see their suffering, to be made scarce. These are the things I would think when I would think them, but I thought they were only daymares. Now I don't bother thinking, I just stare. I can now only hope to never be they, though I don't know how. I'd say I wish I could tell you this, though, I know if I were ever able to tell you anything again, it would be anything but this. Because that is what I do. I'd admit to being lost only if I knew you were sleeping. Tell me you're just sleeping.

    Monday, December 14th, 2009
    stolenpicnic
    10:27p
    Stay Dead. Stay Down.
    .

    Funny, all that time ago,
    I think I was growing my hair long to be like yours.
    And now you've cut all yours off like mine.

    Round and round we go. We go around.

    .
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