i think whoever said that it is better to have loved and lost than to never loved at all, was clearly smoking crack. who believes in love anymore anyway? emanon says: "love is just word for the lack of a better term, a substitute for the word with four letters," and i daily wonder about the veracity of it all.

lately i have been finding myself with a silly grin on my face, sniffing at my wrists (which smell like Escape for men), daydreaming about weekends and pine trees and blue pillows, and trying to pinpoint the exact moment at which i began to fall.....and then some part of me, deep inside, screams "STOP, you idiot!!!" and i relent that alas, i am more of a spineless sap than i ever feared. some part of me tries to explain that perhaps i am merely afraid of being happy, yet past experience tells me that hoping against hope is a very dangerous pastime indeed, and a hole that i will probably end up falling into despite my every fiber of common sense telling me otherwise. and as i proceed into the valley of the shadow of death, here it is, written (well, typed) out, stored electronically for posterity, so that later, i can tell myself, "I TOLD YOU SO."

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by sherry, from The Joint Ascension....

When did all of us chicks grow dicks?
Risk heart and mind just for kicks?
To fake ecstasy will make us sick;
Subject us to courage that cannot stick.