Suitcase tracks in the snow.

I remember the night she broke up with me. It didn't rain, like it should have. It always rains in books or movies, when change happens. It'll suddenly pour, like the clouds don't give a fuck to what you're going through. "Here, now you're wet, on top of all that. Go inside, where you used to sleep with her."

It didn't rain, it snowed. 

It was like rain, but much, much colder.

And I had to roll her suitcase through all that.

And it's not even warm where I live now, like it should be. Like you always imagine when you hear of the place. Even at noon, I'm uncomfortable without a hoodie.

braveryk@gmail.com

"You still owe me all those sodas."

Finally, I feel the urge to write again. It's been gone so long, I had forgotten what it felt like. Phrases sounding like music rushing through my head. The Frenzied fear that they will be lost from my memory before I get them written down, somewhere safe from my own forgetfulness.

Though once penned they will seem foolish, disorganized, juvenile, they sound like music.

I remember trying to kiss her, the first her I ever had, for the first time, for my first kiss. It was in a movie theatre of all god damn places. I remember setting it all up in my head carefully, like dominoes. I had a script written in my mind, and expectations that could have busted through the roof of the place. I leaned over and said my line, a bit too quickly, I think. I remember that, because she didn't hear me. She said "what?" as I sheepishly leaned towards her. A quick peck, the strangest feeling in the world, and I pulled away.

I felt sick, I felt depressed and I felt angry. I remember my best friend at the time, and still to this day, trying to get me to do that the entire movie. Jesus Christ, it wasn't like I didn't want to.

Her small lips provided little surface to put my own on. And I don't really know what I was expecting at all. Explosions, fireworks, cheering? Nothing like that ever happens. I swear life would be better with a special effects team. Now I realize that what I felt was the correct feeling. It didn't feel wrong because I had any problems, only because I was a beginner. The feeling doesn't change if you don't have a well-intentioned heart, unfortunately. Oh, the things that could be avoided if physical advances only felt good through true love. Of course this world is too bitchy to give us any outside indication that we ARE with our true love.

True love, I'm not even sure I believe in it. How can you know, anyway? You haven't met every girl in the world. You haven't had the time or chance to analyze even all of your friends.

Anyway, I still want to hear from you. BrAveryK@gmail.com

Any one of you could write these entries. It's just a matter of remembering who you are. You'd be surprised how many people relate.

Thank God for those of you who are The Narrator.

Amanda, please read this. I know you won't.

My fiance left me yesterday.

I love her.

I will always love her.

I've fallen in love with taking care of her, and now it would be wrong of me to do so. What kind of sick fucking world is this?

I will always be here for her, no matter what.

Unfortunately, she will never read this, she won't hear me cry in the shower, or on the bus. She won't get the letters I won't send. She won't know my thoughts. God save us.

"Wow, you're so young."

I'm rereading Catcher in the Rye. The first book I have ever read more than once. Holden seems so young, just sixteen! At the same time, he knows so much. Not compared to any other 16 year old, but compared to my expectations. He is so influential to me, I can't help but to want to call J.D. up.

I'm going back home for a visit soon. It'll be nice to have friends again.

thought

I had to walk from 63rd street home tonight. The bus stopped there because the road was closed. Police cars and fire engines crowded the next couple of blocks. Apparently, there had been an apartment fire.

I couldn't sit at home. I went outside to think by the old brick school building near my house. A window has been boarded, and I've been thinking about putting a bit of paint on it.

unfortunately I was underdressed. As I started home I saw a small nerf dart on the ground. Hopefully the kid playing with it has a few extra. I took out my lighter and singed the tip of it.
I don't know why I did, I just want the kid to understand that life gets harder. I want him to be ready for something as huge as your apartment burning down, or a car accident, or a break up.

I also realized I value thought above all else.


I still want you guys to email me. Just to talk.
braveryk@gmail.com please.

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.

Sorry about the lack of posts. I'm trying to write a book. Something like catcher in the rye. I think we all needed a little more than J.D. gave.

Just a little bit, right?

Can you guys please email me things that you have always wanted to ask holden, or just to talk to me, or anything? I just want to see how this "human connection" thing really works.

BrAveryK@gmail.com

Black Betty (RIP)

I got in a car accident the other day.

One week in my new city, finally experiencing the inner city feel, and my truck gets T-boned by a super sized bus.

I miss that truck like you wouldn't believe, and not because it was once my grandpa's. Not because my dad loved it. I miss that truck because I attach myself to inanimate objects if I spend enough time around them. I loved my truck, I love my phone, I love my bed's blankets. I love them to the point of humanization. I know they aren't conscious, I know they don't have mindsets or attitudes or opinions or personalities; but at the same time, I know they do.

I guess everything is going to get better, even if it never gets better.

My fiance thinks Holden Caulfield was insane.

I think he was fine.

Who would Holden have married? Does it matter?