Forever More, Forever More.

Forever more, forever more -- I'll watch you walk out that open door.
My hearts in pieces, my soul has gone. Detroyed, demolish -- beyond wrong.
To me, you're my everything, And now, I'm lost without you.
It's like you packed your stuff up, gone far. Honolulu?


December, it's coming. The month I dread to come. It's overwhelming. My mind is spinning -- roaring with complaints. Why does this month have so many memories - bad ones, good ones just too much. I can't stand it, can't stand him. One benefit of all of this, if memories like this make works of art -- write, write on.

I can sit here all day and look at the same blank screen. I have so much to write, but not one character is typed. It's as if, looking at the screen is like watching a movie. I can sit here and see everything happening. I can make a movie, it's like my own little studio. But yet, at the end there's still nothing written. And I know it's only fair for me to share with you my works of art. But for some reason right now, right here I keet picturing myself typing; typing for days. No one can stop me. Why? I have no idea, it's what I'm thinking.

Long, short, in dept or vague each memory tells its own story - of course.