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Month: August 2002

A Tribute to Her

Posted on August 30, 2002February 23, 2022 by KZ

Here’s to missed chances, those quick and inadvertent glances that always seem to happen just as the other is looking your way — and to silence and mutual understanding, to knowing everything but daring not to acknowledge a single word of truth to the other. Here’s to lost love, the things that could have been,…

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Tara’s a Good Sport

Posted on August 27, 2002February 23, 2022 by KZ

The following conversation occurred after I posted this entry on my blog. Tara: i hate you Kevin: ! Kevin: strong words Kevin: did you read it? Tara: yes you suck Kevin: lmao Kevin: oh man, i amuse myself way too much

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Tara’s Question

Posted on August 27, 2002February 23, 2022 by KZ

Tara: how come i don’t get quoted in your blogger? There.

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Advice from Down Under

Posted on August 27, 2002February 23, 2022 by KZ

Kevin: but i shouldn’t get too wrapped up in thisKevin: after all, she’s already takenSuzanne: just because there is a goalkeeper doesn’t mean you can’t shoot a goal How cool is that? Suzanne cracks me up. Maybe I will give it a try, just because it would be a shame to let that gem of…

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Wish You Were Here

Posted on August 19, 2002February 23, 2022 by KZ

It was a glimpse of intensity, but only a glimpse. She left my life just as quickly as she came into it. There’s so many things I wonder about her. Maybe they’ll all reveal themselves in due time. Just maybe. I’m giving up on her for now, because there’s no point in getting worked up…

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Toss it Up

Posted on August 13, 2002February 23, 2022 by KZ

Summer has officially gotten better. Good times.

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I nudged myself closer into the ledge and closed my eyes and thought "Oh what a life this is, why do we have to be born in the first place, and only so we can have our poor gentle flesh laid out to such impossible horrors as huge mountains and rock and empty space," and with horror I remembered the famous Zen saying, "When you get to the top of a mountain, keep climbing." The saying made my hair stand on end; it had been such cute poetry sitting on Alvah's straw mats. Now it was enough to make my heart pound and my heart bleed for being born at all.~Jack KerouacSource: The Dharma Bums
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