I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

The love I’m looking for doesn’t hurt. The love I’m looking for doesn’t bind. My love is erratic, such is what I deserve. I’m searching for something different, something I fantasize about, yet very real. What I see about me isn’t what I want. Somewhere, there’s pure eyes of supernatural good penetrating my subconscious visions. They’re waiting for me; I’m looking every day, everywhere I can. If I find these eyes I’ll know. It was so clear. Please say they’re looking for me. Please say they’ve envisioned mine. When we meet again, it will be on the misty border that we all cross betwen our stops at the material plane, which we think we exist on. The two pairs which are destined to meet once again know otherwise. Come and find me, I’m waiting.

[On top border]

I can see them

we are bonded by them,

we are one.

Looks like somebody needed a girlfriend STAT! I used to have these very vivid dreams that I would remember with clarity when I woke up, so I believed that I was having visions of the future. One time I dreamt that a baby had teamed up with the devil and they were trying to kill me with machine guns. That dream I didn’t put much credence in, but seeing blue eyes…hey, that must be my future girlfriend looking at me!

This vision, coupled with my lonliness, is going to set up an interesting obsession in a little bit, so I won’t say much about this entry. It is interesting to note, though, that three of my four girlfriends have had blue eyes. Oooooooooh….