Might be a little early for final thoughts, but who knows. Maybe I'll amend this later. I came to NY to help with the kids and house after a health scare with my Dad. The purpose was short-lived as he came home the night I got here and promptly returned to work. So it was more like a normal visit. As usual, there were positive and negative moments. A few bonding/semi-bonding moments with Catherine and Valerie. Stephanie is still young enough to just love being loved. Daniel's the only boy here, so I've noticed that he gets away with more than he would if there were more boys... a little more than I can appreciate. Amy is a subject of her own. Shamefully, try as I might, she just refused to find any real attachment with me...at all. I genuinely believe she's happy when I leave. I use to have the same issue with Valerie. Actually, when I left here last time, I was angry/hurt over Valerie's blatant appreciation of my leaving. However, I understand more now as small comments about their mother slip out in conversation. Rosa put them through Hell, especially Catherine and Valerie. And, I imagine, my Dad. A few times during this visit, Valerie slowly and cautiously opened up to me. She even shared some of her poetry with me. The earliest of them were the most touching. The ones about her mother. It's been said that she could use therapy or counseling. And, sadly, it shows in her writing as the subjects change. There is, however, still plenty of light showing through. I'm confident she'll be alright, though she might need a little guidance along the way. Now, Catherine, I'm particularly proud of. Like Valerie, she's been through Hell because of her mother. She's 18 now and has had to grow up earlier than she should have. She's still a little young-minded, but sometimes I think it's really just her personality type. She's a lot more caring and responsible than a lot of other people I know of the same age. I guess, lastly, is Richel. Not too sure what to say. I love her as I do my blood siblings. I laugh and smile. I do what I can to pretend I don't know that she's about more than she lets on. I just hope she manages to grow up before it's too late.

IJR

 Long time, so see. Ok, a quick summary... Life Sucks!!! Met Rachel on ICQ, befriended her, online dated her, broke up. We're still friends. Today, Michelle Vitale told me she knew how I felt about her. The feeling isn't mutual. End of the story, but she still wants to be friends.

 Life sucks, so here's more proof. It's the first of the year and it's about 4:30am. Everyone, Mut Matt (a friend of Jason) (I'm at Willy's place) is asleep. I can't sleep. Willy told me something today that is keeping me awake. He said that Mariluz is contemplating asking me to her prom. I don't know what to say. I've never been so surprised. She's a beautiful girl and I love her to death, but me? I almost find it hard to believe. Ok, I do find it hard to believe. A prom date is supposed to be a boyfriend/girlfriend thing. Or between very close friends. I don't see either of those relationships between us; especially with the large gaps of time between our meetings. I mean, I love her, but I don't see that emotion from her. And if it turns out to be true, and if I go (you know I will) it'll make her leaving so much harder on me. I couldn't say no, even if I wanted to. I just hope he wasn't joking. Jokes aren't meant to hurt this much.

 $1,000 reward for the arrest of Jcauffe is released.

 Long time, no see. Nothing new, yet, except that Willy moved.

 ALONE

 Voices in my head are voices of the past.

 Same old, same old.

 Same here, except that I sent out the letter for Carissa.

 Not much to say.

 It's somewhere between 10 and 11 pm and Christopher's birthday. The usual occasion, but without Lily's evil spawn.

I found myself thinking about Carrisa again, so I'm going to do my best to get the letter for her mailed out ASAP.

I find that I have a habit of concentrating (for minutes to days at a time) about different people, places, or things and then just forget them, suddenly, as though the emotion that drew me to them never existed. Maybe I'm just lonely. All I have that is held close to me is my poetry and my music. The music allows me to release depressed emotion and my poetry is me or most of me. But one can only go without the affection of another for so long before he wonders whether or not it exists.