Where are you now, M?

Hi M,

You haven't written in a long time. It's mid 2012 and your last post is 2011.
Your words are rusty. Your tempo is unsteady. Your poetry stutters and fails. (Ech.)


You got a boyfriend, you've had sex, and he's all you ever said he would be in the last post.

Ofcourse he still isn't perfect. No one is. You aren't, that's for sure. Not just your past, but until now.

We will never really be satisfied, will we. I don't know what else could be missing. If he acts this way, I'd want him to act the other way. If he acts the other way, I'd want him to act like something else. Or maybe I'm just fooling myself.


I don't want to get drunk anymore. I don't know where I'll be getting the words. I don't know what will make me high now.

Something new ofcourse. Travelling. Yes, travel gets me high.

Maybe people in general aren't always exactly happy. Maybe all of us are like that. Maybe it's these pre and post midnight lunacies that thrusts the word out of me. Thrust.

I need things in my life. A lot of things. I need my friends. I need my boyfriend. I need my family. I need my yoga. I need my books. I need my sleep. I need my trusty kikay kit.

Hi dear diary. I think I might be back.