Diary of a Failure

It’s the resting of the end of her foot on my knee. It’s her hand resting on top of mine, played off in the most casual way. It’s when she gets up, and as she walks past me, she slightly runs her nails down my knee cap. It’s that extra two second my hand stays in yours. It’s the glance and wink. It’s the smile when he looks down. It’s the way she hugs.

Sometimes I wonder, do girls know what they are doing? Sometimes I wonder, are these things done on purpose? And if so, is there a motive behind them? Is there something more, something deeper, then my reflection on the surface? Is it for the attention? Or do they not even know. Is it just part of they way the female species is, and they have no idea how meaningful those things can be?

Understand this is in no way me wondering if anyone likes me. It is just me wondering. Because things like that stick. They don’t just go away. They leave me asking myself. What was that? Sometimes even, I question if they really happened. I ask myself, did that really happen, or was that just something you imagined, are you immediately exaggerating something that just happened to be something bigger then it really was?

It’s the way she circles her nails, slightly across my back, as she passed by.

Randall's lyrics of the day:

I will say yes...
The question asked in order to save her life or take it
The answer no avoided death, the answer yes would make it

"Do you believe in God?" written on the bullet
Say yes to pull the trigger
"Do you believe in God?" written on the bullet
And Cassie pulls the trigger

All heads are bowed in silence to remember her last sentence
She answered him, knowing what would happen
Her last words still hanging in the air

How many will die? I will die. I will say yes. Yes.



Randall's verse of the day :

1 Corinthians 9:25-27

25Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.
26Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air.
27No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize