� Dead man � 2003-07-09 � 6:00 p.m. �
Thoughts of you will not subside... and part of me initially thought this a ploy.
I am like that, you know it... and every man who has tried to love me since you... is probably wondering the same thing.
I respect you enough to believe you wouldn't make me cry just for the sake of salt and guts. I well up... I wrench... I wonder... I regret... and no "I am sorry"'s from people around me mean much. I mean....
How in the hell does a man like you end up with cancer?! For Christ's sake... you drink sat water so the poison is out... you won't eat microwaved food... you run... snowboard, surf and play football... you meditate... you do everything in the power of man to be the healthiest you...
I just don't understand. And I am fucking angry... How does this fit into Zen? What then? Is cancer fucking physical enough for you?
And this what has been going through my head.
I've made you a monster in my mind... but I never wanted this...
I am tired... I am hungry....
And tickets on my desk today made me cry inside... I was sure the boss was going to yell at me this morning... but instead he got me tickets for the show... I did the promo... and he said I could use the fun. That I could.
But they said Theory of a Deadman on them... and it split me in slivers over you.
You say you'll make it, but you know Baby, people in my life ALWAYS die.
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