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March 5, 2011
I think I'm starting to get down to what I really want to say. (Oh God, the new Pains Of Being Pure at Heart album is so good. I could  listen to it forever.) The problem is The Blank Canvas, and my pointless desire of him. I do not know him, he is just a blank canvas I have projected all my ideals, my wishes in a person on to. Initially it was an infatuation, now I just want him as one wants an ornament. Just to put there on my shelf for the sake of it, to collect him like a possession - just to say I can. It would prove I can.