September 14, 2004

• Wrote this in Writer’s Craft class. Third period. I absolutely, truly, madly, deeply, despise that course. I wrote a journal entry instead…

  11:30am

  I smell it, smell it all the way from here. With a scent so strong, I smell the life and predicaments in us. Not quite so much like the scent of sweet jasmine, otherwise I have hoped, but more of which of that inconspicuous, dull smell of gas, seeping into us ever so quietly. Do you smell it too? Or rather, do you sense it. Feel it the way I do? It sends chills of euphoria up our spines, then it has a way to make us fall into a deadly slumber against all of our will. Keep your eyes closed, and I will too. Pretend we’re in this together, but I can already smell the rising to our unfortunate epiphany. The peak, the point where we fall, and slide, and get lost in our own pitiful sorrow of regrets and imperfection. Hold on tight, let go. We might just never be able to see again.

  • 4:27 pm
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