Friday, July 21st 1995 Dear Diary, Three weeks ago tonioght I met, fell in love with, and had my first kiss from Jon. Wow. I'm keeping track. The Delgado's are back and my sister is palying with Steven. We saw two snakes in the creek. I sat on the porch and thought about Jon and … Continue reading Mortification Monday
Untitled (2/10/1998) Used to be "Life of the Party" laughing and drinking away the pain and now I'm sober and thinking what a waste my views changed a little deranged Now I'm a little depressed just call me compulsive and obsessed it ain't that bad just the best days I'd ever have Notes: I … Continue reading Bad Poetry Friday
That time in 2012 when I sampled every beer on the Naked City menu on a Monday night. Tuesday was rough.
Thursday, July, 20th 1995Dear Diary,My favorite thing to do is sit in a rocker or swing and think. I like to do it at night when the lightning bugs come out or any part of the day. Sometimes I pretend that Jon is by my side, but usually I think about him or camp. Sometimes … Continue reading Mortification Monday
Remember c. June 1999 Rememeber that time you made love to me in the forest in Decemeber? Remember when we were caught by the cops for stealing kisses in January? Remember holding me while I cried on Valentine's Day? Remember our road trip in march? Remember our 6 month promise in April? Remember the night … Continue reading Bad Poetry Friday
Tuesday, July 18thI'm happy- I love it here , I'm in love, I'm in love. Good evening world-I love you. We played in the creek (Dad got some pictures of me on the rocks) and we car hiked. That was okay, but we met this old guy then went to this ugly 'ole restaurant where … Continue reading Mortification Monday
Monday, July 17thDear Diary,My sister isn't feeling well. She has a stomach virus or something. Daddy and I went for a car hike, while mom stayed home with my sister. We looked for a road where the creek runs by and we could put the tubes in. We drove around some old mountain roads. I … Continue reading Mortification Monday
Writing Poetry During Chruch c.12/15/99 They do not understand why I paint with words on scraps of paper They have not yet heard me speak