| | 15856 | | I'm in San Fran, and there is a girl here, a woman named Sara Jane. We were lovers for 11 years, but more than that we were friends. The only peace I can imagine would be hearing her voice, her real voice and not the voice in my head that plays little snippets of phrases and sentences. Tragically, we don't talk anymore, and I have no peace.
Sometimes I wonder if I will think about her for the rest of my life. I wonder if she will ever know. I wonder if she did, would she even care.
Could she so easily dismiss me that it might even amuse her?
The last thing I ever read that she wrote was "I know you want to be in touch. I do not. My feelings have changed." The email went on but I never read it. I read those words and I crumpled. I signed out and can't imagine going back. It would hurt too much. Hurts just thinking of it.
I found this site because her former email address, which she closed, was idivulge@ ... .com
She won't know, but now you do. I was in FLA at the time she shut it down, I emailed her there for about a year, hoping one day it would stick. That was over a year ago.
Thanks for reading.
I'd love to hear from you. I'm living for it. Hope I mean. | | | | | 15855 | | I was approached by a drunk/homeless guy the other day. He asked me what time it was and I told him I didn't know. I was wearing a watch and had my phone in my pocket. I think my brain was expecting him to ask for money or cigarettes and it just sort of came out. I felt like a jerk afterwards. | | | | | 15854 | | It's called choice paralysis. Humans hate the thought of losing out on something, so if you decide to go into one path in life you immediately think of the things you didn't choose to go into. The stereotypical college freshman who can't decided whether to become a successful lawyer or work on their music. But I'm not 18, I'm 28 and it's really time to get a move on and figure something out. | | | | | 15852 | | I never thought that I would give up on you but I have and it breaks my heart. | | | | | 15851 | | I miss my husband. He used to be fun, sweet, caring, loving. He used to be my best friend. Nowadays, I feel all alone with the world on my shoulders even though he's here every day. | | | | | 15849 | | Pretty much all I have in this life is my car. Dark green, sleek body coupe body, several hundred horsepower. My favorite thing to do is speed runs, timed blasts between points thousands of miles away. Down the west coast in 15 hours, Chicago to LA in 25. Straight Cannonballing. Feeling the strong, beating heart of a thoroughbred roaring through the high desert in Utah, blasting across the open plains or thundering through the empty low lands outside LA. I've never felt a connection with a human as strong as I have with this machine. It was built to travel great distances at high speed and I was built to drive it. This is what love is and I could die happy at any moment. | | | | | 15848 | | I would kill for a fuckin cigarette right now. | | | | | 15847 | | Once you grasp the amazing amount of experiences you could potentially have and understand the incredibly limited amount that you will have even in the best of circumstances the tragedy of life dawns on you. | | | | | 15846 | | I've violated pretty much every rule I've made for myself. I just sorted through a trash bin filled with the refuse of my life for a cigarette I had broken in half so that I wouldn't smoke it because I'm drunk (something I've oft promised myself I would never do again) and felt in dire need of a smoke. Never get involved with any kind of chemical addiction. If you find yourself addicted to any kind of chemical, immediately and violently oppose it to an extreme degree.
I've done things that would be amazing by any normal standard and still feel as though my life has been a waste. Be that a function of humanities relative thinking or not, it still leaves a bitter taste. My potential so far out weighs my accomplishments that I couldn't be happy without a Nobel, Emmy and Pulitzer hanging around my neck with which to strangle myself. | | | | | 15845 | | I'm really tired with my life. I might find a use for this stupid gun soon enough. | | |
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| | \di·vulge\, v. i. 1. To make known (something private or secret) 2. Archaic. To proclaim publicly
the idea is for anyone to anonymously confess to anything. it actually feels kind of good to know that someone will read it.
this is completely confidential. no information about you or your computer is stored. in fact, we only collect the text you type, the date, and a random number.
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