(no subject)
Perhaps they would call what I have the sinking disease. I am tired of television commercials and plastic . I am tired of all the fakers and liars. Aren't we all one of those at some point in time? I am tired of the weak pathetic girls that try to come off as helpless for the attention. You are only as weak as you pretend to be. I am exausted.
I would rather speak with you face to face rather than through e-mails or telephone. That may be because there is less room for misinterpretation...although there is still a mighty big chasm for that. I know that trouble came to hunt you down on your trip and that your fears were conveyed in a new manner. Perhaps you too will learn that you cannot run away from yourself. You are an angry hound that bites the back of your own neck. I miss you and I love you. The things I sent you most likely will not reach because of postal castastrophe as simple as it is. Just as the words are not reaching you. It seems as time goes on my feelings for you are simplified. Clarified. Things just are. But our interactions might as well just stay hopelessly complicated. Intricate and confusing. When are things going to be simple again? In December. Does simple mean more distance like it will in May?
I am buying my ticket to Japan this weekend and will return most likely alone. I will have two very new, very strange lives.
I am fortunate but why is it that I am made to feel like I am being torn apart and that all this work is futile. I don't want to give up. I won't give up.
So am I stronger than ten oxen or just the patron saint of bad decisions?
Love to you all,
M.
I would rather speak with you face to face rather than through e-mails or telephone. That may be because there is less room for misinterpretation...although there is still a mighty big chasm for that. I know that trouble came to hunt you down on your trip and that your fears were conveyed in a new manner. Perhaps you too will learn that you cannot run away from yourself. You are an angry hound that bites the back of your own neck. I miss you and I love you. The things I sent you most likely will not reach because of postal castastrophe as simple as it is. Just as the words are not reaching you. It seems as time goes on my feelings for you are simplified. Clarified. Things just are. But our interactions might as well just stay hopelessly complicated. Intricate and confusing. When are things going to be simple again? In December. Does simple mean more distance like it will in May?
I am buying my ticket to Japan this weekend and will return most likely alone. I will have two very new, very strange lives.
I am fortunate but why is it that I am made to feel like I am being torn apart and that all this work is futile. I don't want to give up. I won't give up.
So am I stronger than ten oxen or just the patron saint of bad decisions?
Love to you all,
M.