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There are days where things fall into place. The stars align and one by one, everything makes sense.
These are not any of those days. I need another road. I've been on this one for a long while and its
03/12/2007
Maybe I need to find more a low-pressure job. Definitely a more low-pressure home.
03/13/2007
The air around me is rapid and feverish. I don't feel it as much as i just know that its there. I walk in a
bubble of excited energy. Its just enough to keep people away. Its just enough to hide who I am.
I don't feel the air on my skin as much as i notice the changes it makes in me. On me. Around me.
Mostly, i want to be numb. I want to exist. I want to walk on a beach and leave no foot prints. I want
to be without being. I just want to continue for the time being.
There's just too much to hold on to. Too much that can slip through my fingers. Air and words and
thoughts and feelings and everything in between. It all just slips through my fingers when i try to hold
them. It just doesn't work.
03/15/2007
The waves in this pond have come to a still. I can see my reflection again. I haven't come to terms
whether I like what is looking back at me or not but it is there. Sometimes just that knowledge alone is
a lot. Sometimes it's enough.
Words are spoken. Spoken unspoken yet still understood. Hell isn't local, it exists in all places at once.
Still investigating if there is a functional balance in regards to heaven. Does a memory of heaven count?
I need to forget. Forget the words spoken yet not. Forget the days that preceded. Forget the days to
come. I need to sleep.
03/20/2007
Wire-framed catwalks of solder and twine with a chasm of darkness between you and the ground. You
know the ground is covered in the shattered glass you left there long before but you find comfort in
not being able to see it. Walking cautiously, carefully then callous and blunt. After a point, you just
have to put yourself out there and see where you land. Whether you land.
Hell, at least you'll be able to pick up the glass once you get down there. At least your landing'll be
clearer next time....or so you hope.
03/22/2007
Communication. They say communication and understanding can solve all the world's problems.
Apparently, the world's in a lot of problems. If my experience at work today is any example, we're all
doomed.
03/24/2007
Almost half a decade later. All this time and I still have this sinking feeling in my chest. My mind
flurries. My heart skips. And I spend the next number of hours distracted, even distraught. I've lost
family. I've lost friends. I've lost "love" and still nothing touches me this way.
It's said what happened wasn't love. It's said that it was years of obsession. That is what is said. I
haven't felt enough to verify or quantify or whatever. I just don't know.
Whenever this happens, I remember how I forget about other pain. Cause another big pain elsewhere.
I look for distractions in every corner and never truly find it. For almost half a decade, I am stagnant
in dealing with this. This is how it is and this is how it may always be.
04/09/2007
Why do i do this to myself? Why do i bother? What draws me to self torture? Is it a sense of duty? Is it
guilt? Am i guilting myself into remembering? Into feeling? Into caring? Is that even possible? Is there a
heart somewhere buried in there? I know it bleeds but does it matter? Am I just another in a collection
of mistakes? Am I just another on a wall or maybe something worse?
Can it be that this is all in my head? Am I just looking for something to distract myself from one end
of unhappiness by wallowing in another?
Can this be cured? Can I just sweat it out? Bleed it out like leeching a poison? I don't know but in the
end, it will likely be the death of all that is good in me.
04/23/2007
Why is it I find myself telling the truth to strangers while lying to myself. Other people know my
stories truer than I can even recall. People who've known me days can know my feelings better than I
can even express within the confines of my mind.
I'm a liar of sorts, keeping secrets from myself as if it merited any kind of protection. My mind builds
the armor and then walls so high that no one ever even sees what's behind.
Maybe its better that way. Maybe that way, I can continue on believing this is a life. Maybe that way, i
can convince myself this is where I want to be for another day at least. Maybe its just a way to live...
These are not any of those days. I need another road. I've been on this one for a long while and its
03/12/2007
Maybe I need to find more a low-pressure job. Definitely a more low-pressure home.
03/13/2007
The air around me is rapid and feverish. I don't feel it as much as i just know that its there. I walk in a
bubble of excited energy. Its just enough to keep people away. Its just enough to hide who I am.
I don't feel the air on my skin as much as i notice the changes it makes in me. On me. Around me.
Mostly, i want to be numb. I want to exist. I want to walk on a beach and leave no foot prints. I want
to be without being. I just want to continue for the time being.
There's just too much to hold on to. Too much that can slip through my fingers. Air and words and
thoughts and feelings and everything in between. It all just slips through my fingers when i try to hold
them. It just doesn't work.
03/15/2007
The waves in this pond have come to a still. I can see my reflection again. I haven't come to terms
whether I like what is looking back at me or not but it is there. Sometimes just that knowledge alone is
a lot. Sometimes it's enough.
Words are spoken. Spoken unspoken yet still understood. Hell isn't local, it exists in all places at once.
Still investigating if there is a functional balance in regards to heaven. Does a memory of heaven count?
I need to forget. Forget the words spoken yet not. Forget the days that preceded. Forget the days to
come. I need to sleep.
03/20/2007
Wire-framed catwalks of solder and twine with a chasm of darkness between you and the ground. You
know the ground is covered in the shattered glass you left there long before but you find comfort in
not being able to see it. Walking cautiously, carefully then callous and blunt. After a point, you just
have to put yourself out there and see where you land. Whether you land.
Hell, at least you'll be able to pick up the glass once you get down there. At least your landing'll be
clearer next time....or so you hope.
03/22/2007
Communication. They say communication and understanding can solve all the world's problems.
Apparently, the world's in a lot of problems. If my experience at work today is any example, we're all
doomed.
03/24/2007
Almost half a decade later. All this time and I still have this sinking feeling in my chest. My mind
flurries. My heart skips. And I spend the next number of hours distracted, even distraught. I've lost
family. I've lost friends. I've lost "love" and still nothing touches me this way.
It's said what happened wasn't love. It's said that it was years of obsession. That is what is said. I
haven't felt enough to verify or quantify or whatever. I just don't know.
Whenever this happens, I remember how I forget about other pain. Cause another big pain elsewhere.
I look for distractions in every corner and never truly find it. For almost half a decade, I am stagnant
in dealing with this. This is how it is and this is how it may always be.
04/09/2007
Why do i do this to myself? Why do i bother? What draws me to self torture? Is it a sense of duty? Is it
guilt? Am i guilting myself into remembering? Into feeling? Into caring? Is that even possible? Is there a
heart somewhere buried in there? I know it bleeds but does it matter? Am I just another in a collection
of mistakes? Am I just another on a wall or maybe something worse?
Can it be that this is all in my head? Am I just looking for something to distract myself from one end
of unhappiness by wallowing in another?
Can this be cured? Can I just sweat it out? Bleed it out like leeching a poison? I don't know but in the
end, it will likely be the death of all that is good in me.
04/23/2007
Why is it I find myself telling the truth to strangers while lying to myself. Other people know my
stories truer than I can even recall. People who've known me days can know my feelings better than I
can even express within the confines of my mind.
I'm a liar of sorts, keeping secrets from myself as if it merited any kind of protection. My mind builds
the armor and then walls so high that no one ever even sees what's behind.
Maybe its better that way. Maybe that way, I can continue on believing this is a life. Maybe that way, i
can convince myself this is where I want to be for another day at least. Maybe its just a way to live...