=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= t w e n t y t w o a year has past. the longest of my spent life no doubt, has just f l o w n by me without a g o o d b y e, probably because it is still here -- still near to help me. in one year i have learned so many things -- it's u n r e a l to think, in one past, i was merely twenty. would i have imagined it then, -- my conscious self -- which dreams in my life would unfold themselves post sleep? and how many? for the past six months i have been free from cubicle walls, working in the unfinished dungeon of my basement -- by myself, yet for myself. you see, this has always been my dream. not quite, yet what i have seen in them -- yet six months, in t i m e, is still early. off hand i can't say that i've done a lot, but when i think about it, i've been through a lot. i have loved. i have loved before, you see, but not like this. for i have always poured love out over w a l l s so high -- no love could get in. for the first time, i pulled someone up over the walls -- for the first time, i let someone l o v e me. sure -- some have loved me b e f o r e, but it doesn't take long to learn your love is not wanted, though effort a p p r e c i a t e d. what have i learned from this? love h u r t s -- as much as, if not more than, pushing it back. See, when you wall out everything, you're merely injured by your lack of what you imagine love to be, to feel like, coming in -- a feeling seemingly so much greater than the feeling going out. yet when you accept love, there is a hell of a lot of shit that goes with it -- makes me wonder if this is how my love felt. with love, at times, one pays the price. but i am s t r o n g e r now. and having t r u s t e d, i feel i am more able to trust m y s e l f. i used to f e a r the m word, appropriately abbreviated by the four letter word 'm i n e.' it's not so bad being someone's. it's just that f o r e v e r bit i seem to mind. the mind is bad at times . . . or who am i to discredit my life's guide? i will rephrase that -- the m i n d is difficult. just when the inter-relational strife builds up, a few choice faces, along with the rest of their natural selves, invade my dreams. in waking, i shortly ponder why i put up with this begrudging entity curled next to yet far from me. to a c t on such dreams would be blissful, yet oh so temporary, ecstasy. once reality hit, the ecstasy would exit, and in that void i would at least hope to feel guilty- feel s o m e t h i n g. knowing anything feels better than the numbness. my song at nineteen -- rather fitting, especially when sung by a thirty-year-old friend of mine -- 'hey n i n e t e e n, no we can't dance tonight,' left me fumbling ever so ungracefully towards ecstasy at twenty. by t w e n t y one, or near the end, i should say, it was just no good at all. and is no good. and probably will never be. maybe by twenty t h r e e i'll loose my apathy. oddly enough, it was when apathy hit -- when i let go of how i wanted my life to be -- that my dreams began to unfold before me. to think i used to abhor the word, 'a p a t h y,' at t h i r t e e n, ready to take on much more than the world around me. it's no good. i was never much a fan of depeche mode -- lyrics where nice, but the music just didn't move me. now with my acquired grains of w i s d o m, i realize it was never supposed to move me, but s t o p every little thing that flows within me -- jolting me to a screeching halt -- with the first note, rendering me intern- ally void, e m p t y, for the music to pour the words, themselves, into me, filling me, forming me into a substance of my dreams, not them of me. once, and only once, did this song move me -- one night, my inhibitions long since drunk away, rendered my walls a form of putty. as everything within ceased on cue, external warmth molded the words forming within me. and since, that putty seems to have formed s t o n e memories. i have learned about myself, and yet learned no shame. i am known to regret too much, to hold onto too many things, yet n o n e i hold now are y o u n g -- and hopefully by twentythree, none will remain. i have learned to regard the g o o d and bad, with not indifference, but acceptance. to n o t d w e l l o n t h e s e t h i n g s. my tension is loosening. my neck and shoulders actually feel f r e e, unbound by the weight of the stresses i once carried with me. i may be far from stress-free, but at least i can turn my head, see over them -- b e y o n d the 'me.' there are t h r e e men that i love -- only one that knows he is o n e of three, yet still stays with me.and possibly a fourth that thinks he knows where i am falling. though i have yet to create my own stipulations between the definitions of love and _in_love_, i can, with a seed of certainty, say that by then, the 'in' will have found me. what concerns me is, then, will i have found it in only three? what is it that holds something so precious as love as h o s t a g e for one? with the answer to this, will someone please help me? in my h e r m i t a g e, isolated from the rest of the working world out there, that endless hummm of white-noised cubicle culture is replaced by the stchurching of sprinklers, the meowing of mowers, the chatter and laughter of children singing through the trees to the music whistling in the winds. though seemingly isolated, i am far from the a l o n e that i felt, surrounded by so many people, yet so few who chanced to get to know me. i have the freedom to do what i want and when, to write in bed, well past ten. to structure my day. to w a l k the dog. to pet the cat. to feel at home, in a place of mine own -- something i h a v e n e v e r q u i t e h a d. in this past year, i have grown a lot. have read a lot. have loved and laughed to my heart's content. did dare to crack a smile -- a toothy one at that. the light is returning to my once blue eyes, to dawn the dewey green. this past year, i believe i have found my 's e l f.' in the next year, i plan to find confidence in it, in me. yt 060898 =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions = = Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = To receive new issues through mail, mail jericho@dimensional.com with = = "subscribe fuck". 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