10-20-1996 A short obsession with change

At the beginning of the year, I had no idea how I'd be about now. Halloween was still a long way off. Not No more. How will I be at Thanks giving? christmas? will I have a girlfriend? not likely. Will I be over my depression? I dunno. I still haven;t mailed the letter to melissa.
wow. change. what a word.
I have just Change pencils. I'm sick and tired of that crap #2 lead. I'm using my green mechanical pencil. The one I've had for 6 years. wow. 6 years ago, using this pencil to record my thoughts fo rmy adult life was the last... wasn't even in my mind. My adult life. How weird that sounds. I feel as though I don't deserve an adult life, or don;t want one. Adult. a loss of innocence. It is a nice warm soft (if sometimes itchy) blanket.
Change... I have changed. How will I change? Will it be a good change? Will my Ideas of "good" change?
Change. Something that's always with us.
It's in our pockets.
It's in our cars.
It's in ourselves.
Change.
We do it every morning.
We do it every night.
We never do it.
We remain constant,
forever giving tips,
keeping no change for ourselves.
Change.
It's a pointless poem. I could probably improve it, but it's late.

Melissa's still here. I missed her so much.

Change. I hate change. I was happy. I hated change. I'm not happy. I hate change, yet I welcome it. Is that why people like change? because they aren't happy? Maybe.
Tomorrow the play starts. Whee! the first thing to look forward to this year.
-ciao