Interruption

I really fell off the wagon, so to speak, didn't I?  I've had internet this whole time and haven't blogged.  It was a great excuse, I know, this vacation thing, and hotels, with bad internet.  I'm just tired of not having had anything to say.  I was tired of it.  But I have things to say.  I have many, many things to say now.  I've spent hours upon hours in a car, with next to nothing to do, simply thinking and reading.

The problem is, I don't know where to start.  I came back home and I didn't know what to say.  So I put off this blogging thing for as long as I reasonably could.  And I still don't know where to start.  So I don't think I'm going to start here.  I have a throbbing headache, which doesn't usually happen, or at least hasn't happened in a while.  It might be because of the weather.  In any case, I'm distracted.

I was going to start this earlier.  I honestly intended to do so at one in the afternoon.  Given that it's past ten at night, that obviously didn't happen.  I'm bad at this.  I'm bad at keeping things together, especially during summer.  I like schedules.  I like rigidity, at least to a point.  I like things to make sense and work smoothly and be regular.  Which is why I'm so bad at this right now.  I promise to try this tomorrow morning...or afternoon...I don't know.  I'm sorry.

Internet

I'm in a hotel.
The internet here sucks.
In that it is frustrating beyond measure.
I'm here for four nights.
I'm not even going to try blogging.
My apologies.
I can promise a post in a week.
No guarantees until then.
Sorry.

Blogger Isn't Letting Me Post Body Text Again...Sorry, But I'll Write When I Can, Because I Actually Had Something To Write About

Thinking

I really don't know what it is about this vacation, or specifically the past two days of it, but I've done too much thinking.  I've had lots of time and very few distractions, so I guess that might explain part of it, at least.  But it's still odd for me to think this much on topics that wouldn't normally come to mind.  I guess that's what happens when my mind is allowed to wander.

I thought weird thoughts about people I don't generally think about and things I don't like to let my mind stray to.  As to why I don't like to let them stray there...it's quite a long story.  No, it's really not.  Nothing is a long story when I say it is, it's generally just one I don't want to tell.  Okay, so sometimes those get long too, but not terribly often.

Can you tell that I'm out of things to say?  Well, I am.  I was supposed to write about happy things, and I am happy right now.  I've been enjoying this vacation quite nicely and have things to look forward to.  I just don't really have much of anything to say.  I should work on that, or find things to say, or something.  I'm just not sure how to make that happen...

Tendrils

Rain from afar is an interesting sight.  Actually, driving over really flat country generally is, but especially when it's raining somewhere far, far away.  Because when it rains several kilometers away, all you see is what appear to be tendrils of cloud, reaching down toward the earth.  It never seems like that's how rain works, and maybe it isn't, but that's exactly how it looks from a significant distance.

It's been a weird day.  Just that sort of day when for some reason you think significantly more than you should.  Or maybe I'm the only sort of person with days like that.  But I am.  I spent a lot of time thinking.  First in the car, on the long drive.  Because there were pretty mountains and I couldn't bring myself to keep reading so I just stared out the window and thought.

I thought about many things.  Things I had seen, things I hadn't.  Things I had yet to see.  It was one of those odd days.  But I believe I've already mentioned that.  Regardless, none of the thinking got me anywhere, not anywhere I haven't been before, in any case.  It happens, I guess.  It was fairly enjoyable, so I'm not going to complain.  In any case, we'll see how tomorrow goes.  Good night for now.

Vacation

I don't remember the last time I thoroughly enjoyed a vacation.  They've always been times of undue stress and worry for me.  It's probably been five years since I had a vacation during which I wasn't worrying about something or other.  It was either something that had to happen after, or something going on at the time that I had no control over, but always, the concern was there.

So for once, I feel like this time I might actually enjoy a vacation I'm on.  It's at an odd time in the summer, which certainly helps things, and most of the things I've had to worry about have taken care of themselves...or I've taken care of them.  Regardless, there are very few things on my mind right now, so I'm hoping I'll be able to enjoy this one.

But in any case, it's been a long day.  A very, very, very long day, spent mostly in a small, fairly stuffy car.  And now it's fairly late, and I'm in a different time zone so this might be late or early, just a warning for those who care about what time I post.  Right, so...I'm tired, and the solution to fatigue is generally sleep.  So I'm going to go do that now.  Good night.

Crap

Yes, this is going to be one of those posts tagged as "crap" because I am completely exhausted and it's been an emotionally taxing day.  I'm tired and it's been a very, very, very long day.  I guess it was fairly productive on the whole, but it's just one of those things that I need to sleep off, rest off, just generally get a nice break from all of this.

I want to curl up in a nice, warm bed and just read books.  Screw people, screw vacations, screw all of this random, obnoxious, unrelated nonsense.  I just want to curl up and be quiet and not be bothered with people and all of their various opinions, thoughts, statements.  I don't care.  I need a break.  And I guess I'm still waiting for people to realize that.

I'm just going to stop even trying to say anything nearly worthwhile.  So I'm going to finish filling up this space and after that, well, I guess that'll be it.  Then I'm off to other places in the next couple of days to weeks, and we'll see what happens from there.  I'm going to apologize again for the lacking quality of this post and say good night.

Interest, or Lack Thereof

I'm here right now.  And here is nothing like home.  It's nothing that I can even refer to as resembling home in the least, not right now, anyway.  With time, it will become home, but that takes time and different factors than are present here.  The silence in the room is oppressive.  It's the forced sort of silence that comes around when people have nothing to say to each other.

And that dampens my mood.  Even though it's only for a day, and I don't really have to say anything, it's still oppressive.  And that frustrates me.  I hate the fact that I don't have anything to say to this person, not that it's surprising or anything, but it still bothers me.  I know it shouldn't.  But it does.  That's what I'm worried about for the future--ending up in a room where I just can't carry a conversation with the other person.

Things like that, just small things that don't mean anything, really, ruin days.  Right now my day isn't ruined, but it's almost frightening to spend this much time in a room with someone I can't communicate with at all.  Even logistical questions become painful at that point.  I know I should worry less, and should go do more productive things, but it's frustrating and not having someone I'm close to to talk to is just exhausting for me.

But oh well, I have nothing more to say, really, so I'll stop.  I don't know when I will next be able to blog because my internet access will be sporadic at best for the next two weeks.  I feel like this may be taking a slightly muted tone, probably because my own mood is dampened at present.  But that's okay.  It happens.  Good night.

Poison Goodbyes

You broke me.  Yes, you.  I wasn't broken by a past love like you were.  I damaged myself plenty as time went on, but you're the one who really broke me.  And I don't know if this is something that it's even possible to fix.  Time heals all wounds, they say, and everyone who's had a broken heart has doubted it.  But it's not my heart that you broke this time, it's me.

Two months ago, at this time, I was in a hotel and I was okay.  Maybe I wasn't ecstatic, but at the very least, I was alright.  How much can change in just twenty four hours?  You tell me.  I don't know what changed, I don't know what pushed on that ledge and I don't know what I said or did.  But when I called you in the parking lot of a Dairy Queen and I didn't know if you would still be there to pick up, you broke me.

I've known fear.  I've known panic.  Look back at February if you need examples of those.  But I'd never really seen desperation.  I got to know it pretty well that night.  I cried.  I cried and I shook when you first told me, and when I couldn't tell you not to, and when I asked you to wait, and when I had to say goodbye, and when I knew I wouldn't be back in time to see you again, and when I picked up that phone and waited for the longest instants of my life to see if you would pick up.  I have never cried that much in my life.  Not before then, not since then.

I never feared death.  It was natural.  Something that just happened sometimes.  It was a fascination, something my mind toyed with.  But you ruined it for me.  I can't hear about it, I can't see it, I can't even think about it without crying.  I can't deal with it.  And that's not your fault.  You're just the unlucky one who made me realize this.

I don't want to talk about it because I have nothing to say.  Sometimes I'm not okay and sometimes it's because you broke me.  I don't know how to fix it and I'm okay with it as is, but sometimes I just need you to promise me that you'll still be here, that I won't have to cry that much every day because you're not.  Even though I don't bring it up, I'm not over it.  I'm not okay with it.  I don't understand it.  I still need to try to write about it because how else am I supposed to deal with things like that?

My dog is five and a half years old in three days.  That might still give me a decade, most of which I'll be absent for, but one day he'll die.  And how am I supposed to be okay with it?  I'm scared of coming home one day to my fish being dead, not to mention my dog.  I'm so absolutely terrified of death and I can't make it go away.  I don't know how I'm supposed to deal with it.  I don't know how it's supposed to be okay.

I don't know how, when in twenty four hours, everything goes from being absolutely fine to almost over.  What would have happened if I hadn't asked or if I hadn't called?  I am a morbid thinker, I want to know these things.  How do I fix myself when I don't know what went wrong in the first place?  How do I do the job of a scientist and discover what interactions occurred, how x and y triggered a and b, when I'm part of it and the rest is something that isn't me, that I can't know or understand?

I'm afraid of having to say goodbye because I always grip too tightly, I never know how to let go.  And even now, when it is nothing more than a fading memory that will long outlive its significance in my mind, I can't put it out of mind.  I am afraid.

Panic

I am thoroughly overwhelmed right now.  I have to leave tomorrow, and deal with people, and figure things out and make plans and things.  I don't know how to deal with all of this at once.  I'm supposed to be asleep right now, so I'm under the covers, which is something most people don't do after they stay up late reading a book when they're eight.

I'm a lot older than eight, but here I am, under the covers, with a laptop instead of a book.  This is a little bit ridiculous, but so is the need to go to bed early so that other people don't have trouble getting up early to go to work the next morning.  I'm just trying to wrap this up because I'm afraid that I'm going to bring a lot of rage upon myself if I don't stop typing.

I may not have internet for the next two days, so I may not be able to post.  We'll see.  I should have internet, but as always, there's no guarantee with travel.  So this is my apology in advance in case I can't post.  I hope everything works out and I'm going to stop typing now in case it's keeping somebody up.  Good night to anyone who still reads this.

Concern

Steps in the cold, step after step after step.  Feet drumming a rhythm in the night.  It's not really that cold, but I'm one of those people who is cold pretty much everywhere.  If it's below seventy, I'm almost certainly cold.  If it's between seventy and eighty, I'm probably still more comfortable in a light hoodie.  It's just the sort of person I am.  I'm also stubborn.  And moody.  I could blame that on congenital defects, but I'm old enough that things like that don't really apply as much anymore.  

I can no longer blame things on my parents or the way I was raised or the way I was born.  Or maybe I can still blame things in that direction, but that's not the way I am.  It's not how I grew up.  I was raised to be confident and independent.  So the confidence thing I might still have issues with, but I think I've got the independence down.  I'm good at it.  I know how to take care of myself and make decisions for myself.

That doesn't make me feel any better about my life, though.  I still feel like it slips out of my control more often than not.  I don't know how to handle this life thing, this taking care of people thing.  And a little bit taking care of myself, but mostly other people.  I care too much to just let things go and fall apart, but I don't know well enough how to hold them together.  

Preparation

Okay, it's not even eight in the evening.  I opened a post page and sat down and decided that I should probably write.  But here I am, with a mostly blank post page and nothing to say.  I'm distracted, I guess.  Not that it makes me feel much better.  I can't write anymore.  Or maybe I can.  But not right now.  Not ever, maybe.  Okay, that doesn't make sense.

I don't remember how to function when I'm not stressed out or worried.  I start creating things to worry about.  Like the way I misplaced my keys yesterday.  So of course that set me off on a frantic hunt for them when I was practically out the door this morning.  And they were in a place that was not at all unexpected.  I don't know, I'm worrying about nothing.

This is frustrating and aggravating.  Even when I open a post page early in the evening, giving myself plenty of time to blog, I can't do anything.  I don't know what to say.  I'm tired and I just really have no idea what to write about.  I have nothing to do, and even though I know there are things I should do, it appears as though I can't bring myself to do any of them.  Which, as usual, is my own fault.  I give up.  Good night.

Yet Again

It's that time of day again.  That stupid time of day when I make myself blog because otherwise I wouldn't do it before midnight and then I'd just stop doing it altogether.  This isn't fun anymore.  And I know, I know, life isn't fun and all of that, but that's not the point.  I started writing here for a reason, and it seems like I've lost that reason.

That's a problem for me.  Because what's the use of coming back here and making myself spew out three paragraphs of crap every night if it isn't doing me or anybody else any good?  Exactly--none.  I either need to develop better blogging habits or find other things to blog about or something, but the way things are going is not working terribly well right now.

I was actually going to write last night.  But it didn't happen because it was one of those situations where I couldn't afford to be too loud and didn't know exactly how to phrase things anyway.  And now I can't recreate it because I'm short on time and because the emotions just don't register the same way anymore.  Well, this sucks.  I hope I figure it out soon...

Brainstorming

I've spent an unhealthy amount of time lately watching Grey's Anatomy.  It's a good show, so I don't really have a problem with it.  To a point, I'm just amused.  I've had many obsessions with various television shows over the years.  Some have stayed with me, and others haven't.  Sometimes I re-watch episodes because they were good or because I have nothing better to do.

I really don't think, however, that there's any show I've watched more than this one, lately anyway.  And I'm not entirely sure what appeals to me so much about it.  Part of it is undoubtedly that it's human.  The emotions feel real and tangible and even though I know it's just another doctor show that's unreal and exaggerated, certain things about it feel believable enough to make sense.

But I'm just rambling again.  And I know it isn't making sense.  And I know it's not relevant.  How did I ever find things to write about?  Oh right, life was more dramatic and emotional then.  Now it's all just futile worry and senseless chatter floating around here.  I really need to find myself some more exciting hobbies.  Oh well. I'll get there.

Future

I finally remembered what I was going to write about a couple of days ago.  The only problem is that it's something that's 1) difficult to write about and 2) very difficult to convey without breaking the vague and anonymous code of this blog.  With that in mind, I'm going to try to relate it as well as possible while still maintaining the cover that this provides me.

I didn't really intend to still be here right now.  I know I sent that email and it said that an end wasn't what I wanted to look forward to, but the idea was so real, so vivid, so beautiful in the most twisted sense of the word, that it was too tempting to just turn away from.  And walking back, at the end that day, I remembered that I hadn't intended to be there.  That it was all supposed to end that morning in a display of triumphant irony.

And maybe people wouldn't have gotten it.  They would have thought I was just depressed.  Or that I was scared of moving forward.  Which, to be fair, I am.  But that wasn't the point.  The point was to show that I could do it.  That I succeeded.  And finished.  And did damn well.  But that it was all bullshit.  The point was that I could go through with it, that I was strong enough to make it, but that a statement needed to be made and I was willing to sacrifice myself to do it.

It sounds almost foolishly heroic, reading that put down in words.  Maybe that's why I didn't in the end...or part of the reason, anyway.  Another part was fear...of messing up, of missing out.  Yet another was not wanting to cause certain people undue pain.  That was part of a reason to do it though, the pain.  It was to illustrate it, to put feeling to something that had been inside me that most people didn't seem to be able to grasp.  It was to see reactions, to cause waves, to lead to confusion.

Maybe, I though, if I just did this one thing, someone would reevaluate the system and fix it, make it better.  Take away pieces of the hell that some of us went through so that those after us wouldn't have to just deal with it but could thrive and grow without these terrorizing constraints.  And I doubt it would have happened, but it was a nice thing to think about.  To hope for.  To look forward to secretly, even if I knew I probably wouldn't and knew I didn't want to deal with.

He said there were some who did it the day after.  I never really made complete sense of it.  I guess the thought was the same as mine, to show that they could make it but just didn't want to.  I saw it a slightly different way, that's all.  And I wish I knew who they were, could understand where they came from and what drove them to something I couldn't bring myself to do.  But maybe I'm better off not knowing.  Maybe some secrets are better left untouched.

Disagreement

We disagree on this.  To a point, I think we always have.  And I certainly think we always will.  I don't mean to be rude.  I don't try to brag.  When I talk about things like this, I'm just saying what I think, how I feel, how it affects me, and that's that.  You know I don't get strongly opinionated on anything terribly often, but I've told you already, when I do find something I believe in strongly, I am going to stick to it.  And this is one of those things because it's shaped the person I am so much.

I know I'm a pushy person.  Occasionally, anyway.  I try not to be because I know how annoying it can get and how annoying I can get.  So I generally try to avoid it.  This sounds so hypocritical, so moronically juvenile.  I really don't know what to say because I know I sound stupid in rambling like this.  I'm pushy and bull-headed and generally foolish.  It's moments like this I realize it and that bothers me about myself.  It was over a year ago that you pointed out how I constantly talk about changing things about myself but never do it.

So here I am again, in that same boat.  Things I don't like and never change.  I like to think I've changed some things, have gotten better, have figured out something, anything to get better.  I wonder if I'm not just flattering myself.  Maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe I'm still the same idiot I was years ago.  But does it matter?  We all die in the end.  But now I'm getting off on a tangent, and an irrelevant one at that.  I really don't know what to say anymore.  I've gone from thinking on personal stubbornness to the meaning of life and that's not generally a good tangent for me.  So I'll cut it short now and let you all rest, for those few who still read my blog (I'm surprised such humans still exist).

Worries

I'm one of those people who worries about everything and anything.  Some of it makes a lot of sense.  Most of it doesn't.  And I don't know how to change that.  I don't know what to do about it.  I'm just one of those people who worries.  I don't even know what I'm worried about right now, but as per usual, I'm worried, which is a thoroughly frustrating situation to be in.

I don't really want to waste time or space rambling about how I'm worried about being worried or not being worried or having things to worry about or not having things to worry about.  I don't want to worry and I really don't want to ramble about it.  I sometimes find myself to be a thoroughly frustrating individual, and this is a prime example of times when this is the case.

Without further thought then, I'll just cut this short and spare you all the rambling nonsense of worry that is currently seeping from every pore much as angst once did.  I guess I'm glad I'm over that.  Not that I care terribly much, I really don't feel much different.  Okay, so maybe I'm just tired and should shut up and get some sleep.  Yes, that there sounds like a reasonable idea.  For once.

Yawns

Another late night.  This time I'm sitting in the boiling heat of this house and if I was feeling poetic I would write a wonderful piece on how everything was sticky with sweat, but I'd actually make it sound beautiful.  Or at least I wish I would.  I think I might have once had that sort of fluid control over language.  I'm afraid I don't anymore.  Which is really, really sad to me.  I used to pride myself on my ability to express things even if I didn't know what I was trying to achieve, and that was nice.

I'm afraid of getting too caught up with you in the future to focus on the things I know I should focus on.  It's balance.  Again.  This stupid thing called balance that requires me to pick and choose and not be able to do anything.  It may sound conceited, but I'm pretty damn sure I could do some really incredible things.  But I don't think I'm going to.  And please don't read this as me thinking that you're going to hold me back, because even if it might be a little bit of that, I don't mind.  I'm just scared.  I'm scared that I'm going to overbalance and lose either my passion or you.

I've never been good at finding the middle ground.  To put it simply, I'm just bad at it.  I don't know where that delicate balance lies so I often find myself teetering back and forth rapidly, hoping that I don't fall too far to bring things back up.  But now it seems that I actually need to learn to find this balance, this compromise point.  And part of me is afraid of missing out on science, and part of me is afraid of missing out on you, and it feels like another one of those situations where I'm so afraid of messing up everything that I don't actually do anything and then really mess things up as a result.

I really hope I figure this out because I feel like everything is going to fall apart if I don't.  And given my wonderful tendency at breaking things when I want to preserve them, I should probably try to avoid that outcome.  I'm sorry I'm such a wreck.  I hope I don't permanently damage anything else.

Forgetful

Once again, I almost forgot to blog tonight.  This keeps happening.  I know it's well before midnight, but I have reason to go to bed early tonight and the thing is, it literally just slipped my mind.  That's frustrating.  I used to look forward to blogging, but now it's turned into a chore, something I have to do.  I really don't like that and I wish it would change.

I had something I was going to write about today, too.  I don't remember what it was anymore, although I can guess what it was related to.  But again, if I didn't actually write it, what does it matter?  My thoughts are getting cloudy and it's hard for me to find a topic that I consider even somewhat worthwhile.  I could rant and rave about my day, but what would be the point?

I need to find some sort of motivation to actually write and write well.  Otherwise, I'm afraid this is all going to fall away and I won't make time for it after this summer of relaxation ends.  But I guess I'll figure that out as I go. I'm still getting used to this sort of routine I am attempting to establish.  I'll get there.  I just hope that blogging follows me there, too.  

Big Deal

It was so much a bigger deal last year.  Leaving, I mean.  This year it really doesn't change much.  I wonder if I've simply become this much more cynical lately or if I simply have a different agenda, a different set of thoughts this year that makes me worry less.  But it just hasn't bothered me at all.  Okay, the end is the end.  No big deal. That's how I see it right now.

I guess part of it is a matter of certainties and uncertainties about the future.  I said it before, I'll say it again...sometimes relationships act as anchors.  Even if everything else in the world goes wrong and ends up backward and upside down, you'll have the certainty of the relationship.  That's what I didn't have last year that I do have this year.

On the other hand, the future right now has many more uncertainties before me than it did a year ago.  I knew what I'd be coming back to, where I'd be going, what I'd be doing, who I'd see.  That's not the case right now.  A lot more lies open before me.  But at the same time, I do have the stability of having someone I love to lean on.  Which makes it all feel a little bit better.

Laziness

I have exactly thirteen minutes left until midnight and three paragraphs of something or other or really just about anything to spill onto this page, to fill up, to somehow turn into meaningful clauses, sentences, posts that convey something significant.  But I'm not really in the mood for anything significant.  It happens, and rather often lately, it would appear.

It's been a long day.  And I really do mean a long day.  But that's okay.  I've had longer and I've had (obviously) significantly shorter, and in the long run, I know that it doesn't at all matter.  So we're just going to assume that it was a fluke and everything is still alright and tomorrow will go well and we will all end up happy.  Or so we hope.  Think.  Assume.

Regardless, I think I'm going to be done rambling quite shortly now.  After all, I have a fairly early start tomorrow and some amount of sleep would be rather beneficial.  With that in mind, I believe I will go now and finish up some last-minute things that I should do before bed, at which point I will retire myself.  Good night, sleep well, and have happy days.

Secrets and Lies

I always prided myself on being good at keeping secrets.  Two and a half years ago, someone told me that I was a box of them.  People would tell me things and those things would never leave.  I would just hang on to them until either the moment passed or something else happened that I felt required me to reveal the relevant information.  I was always independent enough to keep things quiet, to keep them safe.  That's why people trusted me.  They knew that if they told me something, nobody would hear of it again.  And telling the truth is a relief.  It displaces a burden off your back.  It makes things a little bit easier to deal with sometimes, which is why I've always tried to be someone that people can talk to.

I still try to be that person, but it's harder now.  I make no secret of my curiosity, which is occasionally intimidating, and I no longer go it alone.  I trust other people on occasion...fairly often lately, it seems.  The season finale of Grey's Anatomy ended with a line I could relate to particularly well.  Meredith Grey said,

There's a reason I said I'd be happy alone.  It wasn't because I thought I'd be happy alone.  It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it.  It's easier to be alone. Because what if you learn that you need love, and then you don't have it?  What if you like it and lean on it?  What if you shape your life around it, and then it falls apart?  Can you even survive that kind of pain?  Losing love is like organ damage.  It's like dying.  The only difference is, death ends.  This?  It could go on forever...


That's the point I'm at.  It's not easy to be alone.  It never has been, it never will be, but at least I could always survive that way.  I was self-sufficient.  I was strong.  I was independent.  And to a point, I like to think that I still am.  But the problem with being in love is realizing that suddenly you have to learn to trust someone again, and after the difficulty of getting used to that, the agony of letting go of certain things and letting someone in...it's not really possible to go back to being alone.

When you tell someone every secret, not only your own, how do you suddenly keep quiet?  When someone specifically asks you not to, how do you avoid bringing it up when it's something you can't stop thinking about and don't know how to really wrap your mind around?  I'm bad at finding a balance and really good at managing extremes.  So I can either tell someone everything...or nothing.  I'm not good at hiding or sharing bits and pieces here or there.  And I'm working on it.  I can do it.  It's just difficult for me to reconcile.  That, however, is not the point.

I wish I could understand it better.  I'm not going to lie, but there are certain things I'm just not going to say.  I might push one way or the other here and there for one reason or another.  I just want to understand.  I want to help, in part because I've been in similar places, in part because I care for god knows what reason, because it makes sense to me, because I hate seeing certain people hurt.  The fact remains that I hope things will work out, I hope I don't break anything, I hope I can be of use.

Misted Kisses

It's one of those days...I mean nights...I mean mornings when I could have stayed up all night writing but didn't.  I simply stayed up all night.  Which is no big deal to me, especially when there are people around and things to talk about and thoughts to be had.  This was one of those nights, although apparently the thoughts don't stop after the morning, even when the people do.

Why do I want to kiss her so much?  What is it about a kiss, a fleeting instant of contact that I feel I would regret if I didn't ask for again and again?  How did I get so fucked up that I want to make it no less special, no less nice in the least unoriginal sense of that word, than with you?  Because no matter how many times you say it, you're not her, and she's not you.  Kissing her wouldn't be like kissing you and it sure as hell wouldn't mean the same or feel the same or express the same.  No matter how many similarities you share, some things are just simply different.

I've put too much thought into this.  I know that.  I realize it fully.  But when you've gotten no sleep, even something this small feels like the end of the world.  So I think I'll play it as such.  In any case, I think I may go catch up on a bit of sleep that I missed this morning...or what will soon be afternoon.  Alright, so maybe not that soon, but I don't necessarily expect to be up by then, so it's alright.

Why Do I Suck at This So Much?

Here I am at 11 pm again with nothing to do except for blog.  All I have to do is blog.  Just write some words on a page, arrange them, make them look nice and sound pretty.  But I still don't know what to say, how to express it.  Or rather, I don't know what to say or express.  I can express it all adequately, but I don't know what I am to express.

So yet again, I'm just sitting here, filling in space, thinking about things, and still having no clue what to blog about.  I don't know why this is the case lately.  I certainly have things on my mind, but part of it is simply that I either don't want to write about or it's a thought that's really not fully developed or it's something that I'm waiting for, something I want to happen.  I don't know.

There's a lot I don't know.  I'm perfectly well aware of that.  It's such common sense to me that it's not even worth mentioning.  I know this.  This is one of the few things I do know.  Because knowing things is weird.  Alright, I give up.  I really don't know what to say.  I want things to happen.  Or not happen.  Or go one way.  Or another.  Change happens and I don't know what to do with it or about it.