do we ever grow? do we ever mature? learn? soar?
i flipped the pages of the journal i have written in since before i joined college and carried with me even if i havent written too often. how little i have changed. the same sly. the same naiive. same stupid insecurities. same tall pride. crippling egos high walls around. gauche, shy, bold, evil. the same gush (gawd i love byron). the same fears (what if they go away). the same guilt (barbs - i ran). the same longing for sleep. for escape. the same infatuation with wakefulness. the same hours. the same insomnia. same bitter coffe. dark choc. the books, the movies, the thoughts ... same basic patterns. the same doubts. same loneliness. no friends. so many friends. same missing home. missing him. waiting for him to come home. always. like all the other girls. homework. pujo. scoldings. beatings. even beatings. all those substitutes. all those false idols. all those dogs. all that price. for a fools quest. and now we are friends. such good friends. i love you. now we ar such good friends i can let go. i can go on. maybe i can even grow up ... ?
