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... and as I take a bow, I bid you all "adieu".
12.15.2002 - 9:44 PM

484 entries.

over one and a half years, and 484 freakin' entries.

when you look back at what i've written in the past 19 months, you'll notice that over half of the entries are about her, or contain some kind of mention of her.

over the past year and a half, i've--

- met a whole bunch of people who have never judged me by the way i look

- slowly fallen in love with one of my dearest friends

- bought two motorcycles

- been to countless strip clubs

- won a contest to Monterey and met some famous race car drivers

- nagged about countless cheap-ass customers who never took an "English as a second language" class

- met Monica and Elisha

- met Kelly and her wonderful son Danny

- got picked up on by a beautiful woman named Gia

- met a beautiful girl named Lynette

- complained about my fucked up relationship with Maya

- endlessly cried my eyes out about my father passing away

- endlessly complained about my mom

- thought i saw a UFO

- attended two funerals

- bought a car

- got a job at a radio station

- taken numerous diaryland surveys and tests

- complained about my dog

- watched in horror as our nation was attacked

- tried my hand at some poetry

- written lyrics from my favorite songs as entries

- reminisced, remembered, wished, wondered, prayed, forgot, and pretty much every other verb there is in the dictionary


This is my 485th entry.

and my last entry in this diary.

and yes, it has a lot to do with what's happened lately with Francisca. i don't know which of the past entries i wrote it in, but i know i vowed to never ever ever hurt her.

but unfortunately that's what i did.

i can't go on writing in this thing if i'm going to keep having to compromise what i want to write.

i can't go on writing if i keep thinking that i'm going to piss someone off by writing what i feel.

starting this journal (diary, whatever) was supposed to be theraputic for me. a way for me to vent. to blow off some steam. to write what i want and not be judged.

everyone has opinions. apparently writing my opinions piss people off. even if it's the same type of shit i would be saying if i was "talking shit".

why write in a journal (diary, whatever) if it's not what you feel at that point in time?

why compromise?

you know you've pissed someone off when they can't even walk into the room that you're already in.

i hurt her. i pissed her off. i made her hate me. i compromised our friendship.

i'd rather keep everything festering inside and just cry myself to sleep every night than deal with the silent treatment i've been having to deal with the past couple of days.

and yes... she DOES mean that much to me.


and before i end this, i'd really like to thank all of you who've come by and shared this past year and a half with me. when my dad died in February, your support helped me out tremendously.

this isn't the end for me.

just remember what i wrote a couple of days back.

love me
hate me...

you'll never fucking forget me.

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