12:13 p.m. - Apr. 03, 2003
John Smith
I am in love with the spirit of a man that calls himself John Smith. A peculiar cloak of anonymity ~ a smokescreen for a brilliant man with a beautiful fucking mind. I could talk with him for hours and days on end and never tire.
Ah.
I enjoy our conversations, John Smith. My life is richer, having known you, John Smith.
Replaying our conversations in my mind last night, after we parted ways...I sat in my bed, smiling...full of new hope. But it was your smile I felt on my face. Your expression. Can I paint with your hand, can I speak from your lips, can I see myself past your eyes?
What is this?
I dreamt of you last night. Similar to the dream I had some weeks back, of Gina. Just the sight of you. Making contact. No words. No other action. End of dream.
Silent beckoning of, "Come hither?"
Who am I to say?
My life is richer, having met you. You are amazing. You give me hope.
