If anyone has sent mail to coz@cozbaldwin.com in the past 2 months, please, please re-send it if possible! They were not reaching me and now that my email server has corrected the issue, the old stock of emails disappeared!

My apologies.

This doesn’t concern me much / this disease / this psudo crutch.

I don’t like the way / you’ve spoken to me / lately / with your tainted brush.

Let me be free, I say / with a handle / on what I’ve got coming to me.

Finally / I can come back down / and return to this reality.

Gripping on / to open air / with a frown upon my deperate face.

I can see now / what it was / that brought me to you in the first place.

The comforting feel / of a flesh-toned hand / grasping onto mine.

The relaxation / found within / a life that’s left me blind.

And I can’t see you anymore.

I must really get to bed, but I felt the need to write something. I guess that’s good. I’m finding the time to write more words…. now I just have to find the time to sit down and put some music to these things.

I’ve felt so antsy since being single. I just hate the feeling. It’s free-ing, but for me and all my issues, it just makes me very paranoid. Like… who am I going to meet next? How do I do that? Why can’t they meet me? What do I say? Am I wasting my time? Shouldn’t I do something? I feel so lonely. When’s it gonna end?

I’ll tell you when this blog ends. Now.

Goodnight.

Blasted did the horn sound

unleashing me from what’s kept me bound.

Sprung into action to meet you to greet you,

to see what you’ve got buried beneath you.

Got what I had coming to me.

Couldn’t let the beast go free.

Still residing anonomously spawning this analogy.

I’m still a stone in a glance and my heart does the dance

of a thousand men in harmony. Won’t you please be a part of me?

Please won’t you be a part of me?

I am sitting here, awaiting my return.

A triumphant horn to sooth my burns.

A sound that bears the meaning of bliss,

I feel I’m far too old for this.

Listen for your beckoning.

Hoping for, but reckoning

nothing more than seconding your emotions.

I am a stone in a glance and my heart does the dance

of a thousand men in harmony. Won’t you please be a part of me?

Please be a part of me.

Johanna’s site is basically all done. It’s now up to her to fill in the blanks.

I’ve been working on it for at least 5 hours tonight… meanwhile she’s over at her place, hanging out with some guy.

Yes! I feel good.

It’s as though I am ignorant; like I have no right to make a decision — and NOT have it be questioned.

It’s so hard… so hard to cry. If I could let the tears flow everytime, I would. But they’re plugged by shame and various other self-made illusions.

So why is it, that whenever I gain the strength to actually let go, I am ignored? I become a bother. What do they want from me? Constant entertainment? Constant happiness (that is synthetic nonetheless)? Contant praise, criticism and/or abuse? Constant love or hate?

It’s not in me. I don’t feel them. I just feel sadness and I need to have someone that embraces me and lets me cry, and doesn’t push me away or demean my tears. They’re more real than any other tear you’ve been dampened with before.

I wish I had the courage to emrace myself at times. I tried, but that backfired on me. Left me with no one. Can’t I be honest without being questioned? Can’t I be real without being criticized? I’ve begun to think not. I wish I had the courage to do or say what I wanted to. Today, I had a wonderful oppertunity to but I couldn’t bring myself up to the challenge.

I could relate to the conversationalist’s words. I could understand. And I wonder how often she hears that and how much it means, if anything.

I should stop telling people that I know in my life that I have a public journal. I’m sure it’s caused me losses I never got to know were gains. I’m hoping this will not be one of them.

One thing I hate most is when I’m accused of things I haven’t done, which, I suppose is a direct root from my hatred of being misunderstood. I was never able to figure out if I hate it because I misunderstand myself so often, or not…

I guess some people just live in a constant state of confusion and denial.

…whatever helps.

I designed another site. This time for Johanna. It’s lacking all content right now, but it’s there.

www.angelfire.com/home/johanna.

Lemme know what you think.

Well guess who’s back in town!

My computer was fixed (probably only temporary) and I’m back online. Finally, something to do in this house all alone. Alone? Oh yeah… My dad’s been in the hospital now for about 2 weeks at least. Problems galore, but he’s doing OK.

Anyway, my two days off from work have been very productive. Not only do I have a working computer, but I have a clean computer room because of it. My shower now has a new shower head which I replaced. It’s nice. It actually gets me wet now and with such force! It’s like standing under a rain cloud.. *aahh….*

I began to replace the kitchen sink’s faucet. But the old one is stuck on there so tight I cannot get it off. Everything else is ready to go if I could just get enough strength to get the damned old one off. I tried WD40 — about 2 lbs of it, and still it won’t budge. Fricken rust. So there’s so much shit lying around in the kitchen you can barely walk around it. I really wanted to do it, too. I’ll keep trying. Maybe someone out there would like to volunteer their time to help me? Lemme know.

I’m about to go and update the archives, now.

More later…

I have found myself without a computer and this is frustrating.

There are many other frustrations, some of which I shall mention, some I will not.

Johanna and I have called it quits. Well, I guess I called it quits more than she did. It wasn’t healthy. I care for her much, indeed I do and though we’ve only not spoken for 2 days, I do miss her. It’s my preference to stay in touch with her, but it’s her pereference NOT to. I can deal. So that leaves me with no companionship, which in turn has finally let me open my eyes to that old life I had before I met her…. and realize “woah…” I have no friends left!

Eep!

It’s ok. I’ve done it to myself and shall suffer the consequences. That’s how I’ve always been. It just scares me a bit to look out at the world and all its 7 billion (or something) people and not have the ability to hang out with a single one of them. No one to have a good time with. No one to stay out late with, no one to talk to face-to-face, and no one to laugh with.

I have an interest. As usual…

But it’s hard… and chances are slim. Survival is looking weaker and rejection is just around the corner.

Something must be done. The mercury has risen and is ready to spill over. This cannot happen. If I let it go, I’ll lose all hope.

This, my people, is frustrating.

I need to know you’re still with me. I wonder if I’m making a difference?

Insanity is out of the question, but I’m surely not who you think I am.

Let me know.