Sometimes I write short stories. One day, I want to write a book. Monday, September 7, 2009. Wednesday, August 12, 2009. The curse of too many options.

Monday, February 22, 2010. Sunday, February 7, 2010. I come to you, foolishly, wisely. You drop a silver coin in my hand, saying. Such as this you will become. I want to be brave. To be untainted, to be free. To love, to know and be known. To mingle my soul with yours. But it seems that the hellish traces of my fractured self. Can only be burned away and consumed. By the most harrowing of fires. With a gravity and smoke.

I woke up this morning with an immediate desire to pray, which seems rare these days.

On May 10, 2009 by Gary Giaimo. After the 9 hour drive, I arrive at my destination. My father looks older, moves slower. My stepmother is the same. I have yet to be able to pick up where we left off. I am happy that I have driven up, that I have seen him. For all of his faults, he is my father, and half of me is him. I am reminded of how funny he is, and we laugh a lot. On May 1, 2009 by Gary Giaimo.

Life, you take me by surprise.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009. These words are swirling in the caverns of my mind. i have so many questions and still no answers. i dream of eating steak, baked potatoes, cheesecake. i dream of the day where i can eat big meals and not feel pain. and i was supposed to have answers today. Those words surrounded me this morning.