April 3, 2002


I wish I knew myself better, a lot might be explained if I did. My restlessness seems to worsen every year, and there is still no cure to be found. I guess I’ll just keep living, and dreaming, and aging. Do I have a choice? A new love needs to be acquired, one that evokes passion and intrigue so that I may become a victim to my own obsessive tendency.

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist