January 21, 1998


I can still taste it in my nose sometimes, like a bad memory that can’t be forgotten. I want things to be perfect and done my way. So much passion goes in to what I believe and I guess that my expectations are far-fetched. This so-called game is my life but there is constant change and soap opera antics that lessen the importance and love for these characters that I hold so dearly. I scare myself sometimes for getting so involved in something that is supposed to be merely a scapegoat for time. In every person I give myself, they are my lovers and family. My only means of true love that I share in secret with only one are constantly belittled and raped. There are times when I wish for death upon myself just to show what life is really worth. Perhaps we are overblown. Perhaps relationships are a one-sided thing. What is the point in continuing on when a whole other world is being played? Nothing seems right anymore. I hate being apart from the rest just for more knowledge and depth that only I will ever understand. Words are never said as I want them to be for the point is always lost as well as the meaning. I can never grasp what I feel. Nothing is sacred with two.


Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist