Rendezvous
30 December 06 : 03.37 AM
January
Sometimes I can't remember the good times.
February
I've been here before. I know where this waltz is taking me, and I know just what songs play in the background and I know I just can't hold on to time.
But sometimes, I forget and I just keep trying.
March
Jeff Buckley on repeat, soft places in between the sheets of my bed. Tonight it's especially cold.
April
Can't organise the pieces, they just keep falling apart.
As with everything else.
May
I am so fucking over this perfection.
June
How does one detest where they fit in best?
July
I spent today online searching for new stock to use in my design and reading Blixen's Out of Africa. I think this just made me a better person.
August
Somewhere between being absolutely cynical and falling dizzy in love.
September
I have been restless of late. Blasting Idioteque and I Disappear and Strangelove and all those electronica pieces that remind me of flashing neons and about fucking emotions away. Give me something that makes my heart feel like it's pulsating and never malleable because the temperature's too low to melt metal.
October
I hardly have anything to write anymore. I walk around in a half-daze-sorta. Being in love is different this time.
November
Danii makes me brave.
December
I just keep stringing the sentences together only to dissipate the words with a press of a key.
I have just summarised my year in the most characteristic of sentence that I could find in my entries, as close to the beginning of the month as possible. December's an exception because I don't have much to base on, considering how much I have written.
Goodbye 2006. You brought me growth and renewal and shitty emotions and rebellion and a lot of gastric pains. I received peace and love and tears but no less happiness. Sometimes I feel like I don't want to let you go, but sometimes, I expect next year to be better. Believe me when I say I'd miss you.