cmptr just made me cry

I love this.
That music brings people so close.
I hate you James.
In the past three minutes I have experienced the most love. Ever.
Jay truly brings us all together.
He has created a Great Depression.
I'm not really sure what I'm doing. I don't know. One moment I'm this person and the next I'm slipping backwards. Losing grip. Where am I standing? Why can't I cut it? Why does it continue?
I'm not talking about people. I just worry about other people. A lot.
I love James. He makes me cry.
I love B. He makes me happy. I'm going to visit in Seattle.
Talking with people who are older. 57. They've seen so much. We can relate. They're real. They know the pain. They know the drugs. The ones that are supposed to help. We can talk about that openly. The troubles we have faced. We share so easily with one another. And the support we all give. It's beautiful. I needed something like that today. So thank you to the nine of us who stuck it out after Jay left us.
Apparently my name reminds Jay of Janet Jackson and apparently Jay remembers me which makes me laugh. Everyone's talking about random shit while me and Jay are having our own conversation. Hahahaha...
I'm always up so late. With my thoughts. Of how life used to be. Of how life is. Of life is supposed to be. Of how life is going to be for him. There's nothing there. No structure. There needs to be. But don't step in. I've noticed people don't hit you if you keep your mouth shut. I shouldn't tlak about this here. I don't want anyone to know this.
But I related. To that book. To the crying. To the back seat. To it all. To everything.
We're fighting the good fight guys. Support gays/lesbians/transvestites, any and all walks of life. Life is to short for all this hate.
This book helped me realize what song I'm going to sing.
I remember when Cam said that to me. When he said that what I was doing was a good thing. Trying to reach people. Cam's actually a great guy. I can't wait to hang out with him again this year.
And there's this part where you're laughing and with the people who are closest to you. But they know nothing about you. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. They think they do. But man they don't. They don't at all. I just talked to 9 people for two hours and they know more than these friends do. The act is amazing isn't it. Pragmatics. Pragmatics. Dead duck day. Pragmatics. Don't let them know your secrets. Don't share the secrets of the act. Makes it seem more plastic when you share.
I wish I could tell you about everything that happened in those past hours but then you'd know too much. He's 27 and doesn't do that shit. I'm 17 and I do it. I need to stop.
I shouldn't have started yesterday. Why did I give up on that? I was doing so well...
I wish I could write down everything. I wish I could put everything here. But no longer will I. Why? Because of pragmatics. What a fucker they are...
Here's just another place to keep up the act.
Love,
He leans forward and looks at me - not the way other people look at me. He actually looks at me - not at all my fat, not at my scar, not at the blotch under the scar. He looks at me, and he smiles. " Yes, I do see you. I see you." And then it happens. I cry.