2005-01-08 O 5:00 p.m.

I fear becoming a denizen of the dark. Rejecting light. Hugging black.
I fear being lost in the aperture of love. Where love has gone, I do not want to disappear.
I fear your subterfuge. That nothing will ever be opened and cleaned. That everything will stay messy...
Ardency is fading. Romanticism is only a facade. Hurt, however, is growing without hindrance and will overthrow all other emotions in due time...


...I'm starting to believe that I'm way too much for you...