I couldnt stand the othe rlayout i had up, the new one for hte 2 year birthdya of the diary . . . it sucked, so here is osemthing much better that i like. That i actually like.

Today I wrote a poem, in an attempt to get some feelings out of my system, what i ended up doing was knowcking some reality into my head . . . and depressing myself immensely . . .depressing myself immensely

that has been ym description for many things lately.

This weekend my family wa sorting through my uncle's posessions . . . . well wha tused to be his posessions. Everyone was picking out clothes and items that they wanted . . . it was so surreal and so odd. MY aunt kept trying to get her husband to try on the clothes . . . . what made her think he would want to wear a dead man's clothing.

I was instructed to go through the boxes and take anything i wanted . .. i coulsnt stop, everyone else was so discerning, i nearly burst into tears, though tehy didnt see it, i took anything that reminded me of him, of my brad. Everyone sees everyone else differently, so different thigns are important to different people . . . . but i felt like the only one who was affeted emotionally by it. i took two bandanas, a field jacket , a ring with ducktape around it, a hat with his initals on the brim. . . . . and everyitm i look at them i think of brad and i can feel sad again . . . . my faimly is so fucking odd.