Exowl

You always took the bullet Everytime I watched it drill its way through your frail skin You fingers never reached to dig the bullet out The bullets didn't kill you - they weren't yours they only made you bleed But my hands were there shielding you, late every time The skin on my fingers peeled as I tried to rid the bullet Time after time. That is what you failed to see.

Two years ago, exactly. The day that I graduated, that is. The time doesn't seem so vast, but the change in life does. Studying, living on my own, having M, and so on... Yeah. Big differences, in my mind too. Just a remark. Yesterday, a small crisis. M got all hurt about how I was texting A in bed. And I get it, I hadn't spent much of the evening with him, even though we were both home. Not trying to cover myself up, but I had made plans to spend the evening alone as he was supposed to go to his parents'. But I just had this need to shut him out and be alone. I guess the texting just triggered it, but anyways I should stop. The bed is a holy

It's been a year since I last wrote just about anything close to a diary entry. So here goes. I read my latest 'post' (stupid to call it a post since it's for my eyes only) here and I laughed. And again I caught me laughing at myself in retrospective, which is easy, to say the least, but also dumb. Those were my feelings and thoughts back then and it doesn't make me smarter if I work out their defects now. Hell, that would be easy for anyone. But I made out something good of it too. 1) I'm substantially more happy than then. Here I am, sitting home on a public holiday with my year-old (year-fresh?) boy friend and feeling amazingly content a