12:15 a.m. - 2004-07-21
No matter what hour of the night.......
It's more then a heart beat or a flutter of a bird's wing or even the soft rhythm of breathing that happens naturally. It's more like the sensation that everything is everywhere and you're only one person and you're searching for answers to questions you forgot to ask.
My hands are shaking again and I can't breath well and I guess that's why I'm writing now. I'm nervous and no, I won't give in. You're my fair weather friend. I won't tell you my failures. Not this time. Who am I kidding? You are who I've always told.
It seems that you'll be back soon. I'm glad. I have missed you and it's felt like forever, but it will be soon. It will. I promise. You will feel sad when you get back though because life has gone on without you. I don't know why it has, but it has.
I'm nervous. There's so much stuff going on. There are numbers and dates and people and places and you and events and you and pressure and you and movies and books and songs and music and people and ......and you. I...can't sit still. I know you're thinking that's why I'm writing ...and it is, but it's not. I'm not really here...I'm..scattered. I can't even finish a thought. I'm everywhere, but nowhere. I'm not getting anything. I'm searching for reasoning without any intention of finding it.
Then there's you. You are everywhere where you're needed and I have no idea how you know when that is, but you're there. You seem so innocent. It's almost as if you are waiting to be told what to expect from me. If I didn't know you better, I'd call it an air of naivette. I'm dragging you along as I'm being dragged along. I'll come back for you? Never. Never go home. You know better then that. Take me with you? Never. Never break your own rules and never slow down for the weak. Whatever happened to human compassion? They used to tell me you were amazing. You amaze me.
Maybe I have a story. I know I do. Maybe I could tell it to you and you'll laugh because I've come across harsh winds on my path that have burned my face with sarcasm. Maybe you'll howl darkly at my tales or maybe you'll cry because I've colored your heart red again with a pack of crayons that I recently put in the order of the rainbow and you know that no one deserves what some people are given. Maybe I'll tell you to stop crying because this is life and it's not so bad once you're living it because that's the way it is. You can't give up on life because life never keeps up on anyone. Maybe you'll tell me I'm brave and that you can't believe how I pretend like nothing has happened and maybe I'll brush this all off because this is my life and I know better then to accept compliments on my ability to deal with it. You question my maybes, but I know it's true because it's happened before. In fact, just my saying this will have minds questioning what has happened and my story will begin again and new laughs will be laughed and tears cried until soon I fade into legend. I'd love to be a story, a legend, a myth. Stories never die. I'm no one special. I do what I need to and deal with what I'm given. I sort through my thoughts and live my life and maybe most importantly, I fuck up a lot. I'm not perfect. I am human and that's a gift unless you are not grateful enough to categorize it as thus, but I am far from anything worth acknowledging.
Sometimes I wish you would. Maybe because I adore you, or respect you, or consider your opinion of the highest quality. Sometimes I sit and wish I knew what you thought of me. Maybe because I hope it's good, or maybe because I know it's bad and that will only make me want to prove you wrong. I am stubborn. If you tell me that I can't do something, I will. I have my own rights and I know not to let you stomp on them.
I think that I'm on a thinking high. I'm so entrapped by these billions of thoughts around my head that I can't even feel the ground under me. It's this nervous feeling of floating that is good, but you know that if you let it get too out of hand then there's that possibility that you'll lose your mind and forget everything because there's nothing besides being here and now. There is no world out there and the future holds no place for you or me and pretty soon all these thoughts are eating away at you. Who are you? Why are you here? What are you doing? What is the purpose? Why? why? why? WHY???? and that's all you can think of and you don't know any of the answers and your head is about to explode and you know there aren't any answers, but you keep asking and soon, you know if you don't snap out of it then you never will and you'll be gone; lost in the scariest place in the world; you're own mind.
So you question the great thinkers who once were or ponder those who have yet to be and you wonder why you are what you are and how long before you are not. You wonder what to believe and why and what to say and do and think and why and why not and who and how and pretty soon it all blends together. What are you doing? The answer- nothing. Your too busy thinking about everything to be able to do anything. You're living on the edge......the edge of life. You're so busy thinking about what it's like to be in the middle that everyone else has pushed you to the side. Maybe you need to just stop all of your thinking and floating and worrying and just let it go and just live. Does that sound hard? That's because it is. It's probably one of the hardest things you'll ever have to do, but what are your other options? You can either get lost in life, or lost in your own mind. In my case both are pretty scary, but I figure a little balance of both should make me just screwed up enough to make it through. See you on the otherside........if you make it that is.
