|2003-02-09 - 12:45 a.m.
i am the passenger in a car driving out of the smog and i am clutching megan, my fingers in her three-year-old hands. i am totally and hopelessly in love with her as she sings the carpenter's every shalalala, every whoa still shines...i can't even begin to tell you how funny the music situation is here. they sell a million love compilations but they are all the same twenty or so songs. and they love the carpenters. and i love megan. and she loves me. and we communicate without language and my heart will break again when i leave yet another baby behind. to find a child with this magic who needs my love, i don't want to leave this place without that. how's that for heavy.
fucking crazy times...i had my first gong fu lesson alone with sifu. and i was serious. and he worked me. and we were in and old stone building with swords and knives and big wood chairs. and i tried to stay focused but i kept thinking, how fucking cool did my life just become?
i love you like a switchblade.