there is a darker side to me, the one that brings out the bastard in me, the one that compulses the drinking, the nostalgia, the harsh bitter words that have no rightful place in the soundwaves of decent people. i think i've finally decided to name him Lou, as in Louis (my middle name), it's strange to think that you can name your darker half, but i don't like him much, and he obviously loves me with razor kisses and misery. i'm not really multiple personality disordered, but i'm absolutely bipolar and tend to have mood-swings that would throw off anyone. i've been a real bastard in my past and there is no changing that, no adequate appologies and no excuses. i'm not blaming that side of me, but i am acknowledging that it exist all too well sometimes, and i'm not sure if it's a defense mechanism or what, but it's the same weathered voice that seduces me into thinking of all the old loves and then reminding me just how horrible i was to them. i've been a fuck-up at love since day 1, but even when i try to find hope, and try to be the gentle caring man that some women have actually taken the time to love, my darker half, Lou, has to unearth the demons and nightmares, has to accomodate and enable all the evil in me to come out and hurt people that deserve love. and because of this darker half i will not find or deserve love until i kill this half of me. though it'll probably take me with the process. either way, you need to live in hope or die wishing you had someone to love and hope with.

i truly was a fuck-up