2004-06-03
O Crying Child...It's My Own Fault...
hearing: Overboard - Matthew
reading: Middlemarch by George Eliot
wearing:white skirt, dark gray short sleeved shirt, light gray scarf, black wristwarmer, black belt, silver ring, hemp bracelet with 4 beads: two purpley red, 2 light blue, hair up
A child forsaken, waking suddenly,Whose gaze afeard on all things round doth rove,
And seeth only that it cannot
The meeting eyes of love.
~George Eliot
Last night seems like a living nightmare. I don't remember who I was or why I thought how I did. It all seemed so right then... I tied the bracelet, it was my promise, the symbol of my inner war...
But the knot is already coming untied. I woke up this morning no better off than when I first got into bed. Everything I thought and decided melted away under the cold morning sun. And I broke my promise already. I dashed it all to the floor.
I have little hope. In any direction. I am not going anywhere, because I have nothing stored up for my next home, beyond this life. And I cannot begin the storage until...
And I can't do that.
I'm tired.
I don't want to explain anything anymore. It's too painful. I'm just tired. And despondent. Everything's wrong. Everything is just messed up. Me most of all. I am the biggest problem. And I won't move to fix it. I could. Just move Megan...just get up off the floor...
But I don't care. I don't see a point in it. Which means I can't complain. The continuance of my problems is my own doing. I recognize that. I know. Thus I won't complain about them. I will bear them, because it is my choice not to fix them. So they can only be borne in heavy silence. I must cry my tears to my pillow.