Oct 07, 2004 18:33
I feel you underneath my feet. I feel your pain through the marks left behind. I bend down to touch you. Place my knees on your back, my hands on you shoulders, I lay the side of my face against your cold, cold body.
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I think I've been trying to fit myself into a box. Well clearly I have been, but maybe a different box that I don't yet know about. I try to trace the problem back to its roots. But trying to trace or sift through all the events is so difficult. I am angry because I am not angry (the poetic version). I am angry because I don't know why I am angry (equally true in its opposition).
I wanted a major and couldn't pick one. I wanted a major because I wanted a box everyone else could recognize. I couldn't pick a major because I couldn't recognize any of the boxes. But before that I wanted some definitions. I became plagued by the ambiguous terms "social" "economic" and "political." I wanted definitons to understand why these words are so often used and what it could possibly imply to use them all in one sentence. I couldn't draw the damn boxes to figure out how something could not be social, economic and/or political.
Before that I realized there is no value in happiness. No, I take that back. I think that came after all this. I was confronted with the reasons happiness has no value. The outcome being utter devastation when I feel what I had hoped to feel only to be received without the reception I thought would come along with it all.
I delude myself into thinking I am free only to find out I was connected to the train tracks all along. I followed the path. Fuck me. I did. I did something wrong. And perhaps I need to "own up, take responsibility and do what I really should have done in the first place." And perhaps what I need to do freak the fuck out. I am mad. I am sad. This sucks. And it is NOT what I want to be happening.
Fuck it. Fuck you. Fuck "the way it is." Fuck the system. Fuck the situation. Fuck reason. Fuck circumstance. Fuck history. Fuck your mom and your dog. Fuck it all. But this is me. And I feel like shit. So you get the fuck over it yourself and deal with who I am. Because I am not a peacock, I do not carry your prescribed destiny and I am not property to be exchanged for goods and services.
October 6, 2004
"I don't like it; I don't like it; I don't like it." It's hard to break yourself of a habit whne only one sentence comes to mind. I guess it would make more sense to say 'break into a habit.' And it's hard to sincerely say 'I try.' "I try; I try; I try." Because it almost implies an imminent failure. Forcing one's self into feeling never really turns out well. Hoping you'll fit into that box ususally doesn't work out either. Saying both these things, um, doesn't make the situation any easier. But there's always a new way to 'deal.' Even 'yes and no' don't mean the same thing all the time. I'll sleep it off in a state of apathy and wake up to write about nothing again. I mean the striving for nothing, or something like that.