Who the fuck do you think you're kidding?

Today is a bad day for me.  A really rough, open-a-vein-bad kind of day, you know?  

So I found this entry appropriate.

12/15/98
"Bruce told me the other morning that he's tried to figure me out.  I've re-read the letter a thousand times, trying to see why he thinks I'm perplexing, why I'm so 'distant.'  He calls it my 'safety mechanism' - my mask.  He tells me that I'm causing myself a great deal of heartache and that I'm missing out on something great.

From Bruce: 'It's not like I wouldn't have told you anyway, had I the time, and you weren't so distant.'

And then, part of his poem to me:

Did you paint you windows purple to hide a
multi-colored madness?
To shelter cold-confusion from distant eyes
that see your sadness?
It's easy to keep your mouth closed,
It's easy to stay away
Until your heart swells much too large
for the mask you've given it."