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[Links:| Exploding Dog My Old Diary ]

The Sky. [Sep. 26th, 2004|10:02 pm]

I wonder if he still looks at

the sky and thinks of me...


I wonder if he still

looks at the sky...

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The Trampoline. [Sep. 26th, 2004|08:37 pm]

He told me I was pretty...he told me many things...

Maybe I shouldn't have flirted...I didn't really mean to, it just happened...Why do I have to be such a flirt and yet not? I love JT and this just messes things up. Not for him and I, I probably won't tell him since nothing happened, but this'll haunt me for a while...

I walked past his house...

It feels like I want to see him again, to talk to him again. Why? I shouldn't feel this way...I should be happy, I have no reason not to be.

I just want to be told that I'm pretty...that he likes me so much...JT tells me all those things, but this just stuck better than whenever JT told me...

It's all wrong, this shouldn't have happened...he's all wrong...

But he wouldn't quit, he didn't care if everyone was listening...watching...

He told me he loved me, so did JT...

What am I supposed to do?

I love JT so much...more than I thought anyone could...and I don't think I love "him"...I just, I don't know what I feel.

I just feel lost.

Maybe I won't ever see him again and there'll be no problem...but I don't know if I want to see him again or not, he just...I can't describe it, it isn't the tingling JT gives me, but it was still good.

He told me I smelled good.

So has JT...

So what's my problem? Why aren't I happy?

I feel so confused...

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Regrets. [Sep. 26th, 2004|08:30 pm]
[mood |confusedconfused]
[music |God of Wine by Third Eye Blind]

Everything just got a little more complicated...Well I guess that's an understatement, but...

I'm not going to talk about it on here because I foolishly made this a public forum and the person/people I don't want to know about this might do just that.

I just, well I wish I hadn't made this public and this diary would've been lost in the LiveJournal sever...I wish I could get this off my back, but I can't tell anyone and I'd rather not be pressed to either.

I must sound really silly...like I want attention and people to ask me what it is...and if that's what you think of me, then so be it. Just keep in mind that this is really the only place I can turn to except for my other diary. I guess I can get it all down on paper there...

I wish I had never gone...it'd have made life a lot simpler...

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The Keys. [Sep. 9th, 2004|03:44 pm]

Little flower...

when will you die?

The fire storm's raging,

and the florist is craving,

all of your little pink eyes.


Little flower...

when will you live?

The fair wind is blowing,

and the gardener is sowing,

your little pink eyes in the ground.


Little flower...

When will you care?

The water is coming,

and the birds are all humming,

the keys to the questions of life.

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Web Page Design. [Sep. 9th, 2004|12:57 pm]

I don't quite know why I'm writing, I'm in Web Page Design at the moment.

I guess I'm writing because I'm bored, we don't do too much in this class, even -with- the complex HTML to learn...But alas, I guess that, if I would like, this gives me more time to write in here. That is, if I have any inspiration.

Lately, my poems have been mediocre, but I think they're getting better. I -am- trying. But I guess the key is to try and not try too hard...

I've got Impulse today after school, and maybe that'll be fun because I know babysitting (which I have at 6:30) won't be. I'm not too fond of kids. Maybe that's light, I'm not too fond of kids -at all-.

If anything's a journal entry in this journal, this one is. It's actually an account of my day/events opposed to all the poems and song lyrics I might/probably will put in here.

Well, I better get back, the world wide web is waiting for my web page (if one ever gets made) and I wouldn't want to keep everyone waiting...

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No One Ever Would Be. [Sep. 8th, 2004|05:55 pm]

Down the street

she walks,

to the rhythm

of her own feet.


There's no one around

on this dark and star-lit day...


At the water's edge.

she reaches a bench.

This is the place;

the place where dreams die.


She walks here everyday,

looking for answers in the wind.


She desperately wishes

someone was

there with her,

someone who cared.


She wishes everyday,

but no one ever comes...


The wind blows,

but no answers are on it.

She sighs and faces the wind,

never silencing her question.


No one was there for her,

and no one ever would be...


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Red Winter. [Sep. 7th, 2004|06:28 pm]

You watch as the red footprints

cross your white paper.

But when they change to ink,

will you remember?


Are the rabbits

as important?

Or do you only

remember the wolves...


We all bleed,

but only one shows.

When the snow never melts,

how will you remember?


The problem with all my writing is that it's too forced. So, I tried to let it just come as it did and not think too much about it. I always think too much about my writing and I end up ruining most of it, so maybe this is a step in the right direction. We'll see if it makes any difference.

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Hello. [Sep. 7th, 2004|03:14 pm]
[mood |boredbored]
[music |Far Behind by Candlebox]


What should my first entry really contain? Should it be a biography like the one in my profile? Should it be an account of my day at school? Or should it be something that will take you or anyone totally by surprise?


Or perhaps it should just be this:

Hello, my name is Margo Williams.

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