it's been an interesting day.
I worked with Bob today... aka, we sat around googling him... and finding all the random references the world has to him. It's strange the connections we find ourselves stuck with. I google myself, and three things come up, a "quiz" Emma and I wrote about guys "who wants to date Asha", a newspaper article about graduation, and an obit for my grandmother... my dad's mother (under Thorne). Is that who I am? My significance in the cyber world?
of course, you google any of my online alias - and there is a great number of "user profiles", or journals, or random websites I started and never finished.
I talked to my mom today for 31 minutes and 35 seconds. Strange that I remember such a precise number hours after... I love her... but I think everyone is happier that we live in different countries. I was reading someone's post today (you probably know who you are), and remnants of the rage I felt my senior year surfaced. The night before graduation I sat at the edge of the cliff, watching the orange haze of a foggy Hanover immersed in rage. it consumed me until even my sleep (propped between two stones), was angry. I wanted to retaliate, to destroy, to hurt her in some way. I felt helpless and unable to understand why... if I'd been able to drive I suspect I would have disappeared... and I wonder if I'd have come back. I was lucky in some ways - after the separation/divorce my dad always took my side - and it felt like I had an ally against my mother's complaints. But at the same time - after my dad left, there was no one else in the house to temper my mother's behavior, no one to act as mediator. I was also lucky... five days after graduation my mother moved out, and I lived on my own for a summer.
I've got a white piece of paper of my wall, written in bold black letters, "Where do I begin to say I love you? or I don't want to see you again? Can I write it on the wall? Will that help to end my frustration, my need for something you don't have? What will make this right. Ten more cakes and a lot of sex? I just want silence in my head. To feel secure with myself. I want... to know without having to ask. To be sure without all the stuff between. I want love, but what is that isn't you?"
i don't want him to call, because I'm afraid it will ruin my calm.
Someone's dog is barking - that almost hysterical bark that makes me a little bit sad. it sounds like Daniel when he's too upset to listen, and won't stop screaming "I'm not listening, I'm not listening" I love the boys, with that aggravated sense of occasional desperation.
The wind is blowing, and I wish I was outside.
of course, you google any of my online alias - and there is a great number of "user profiles", or journals, or random websites I started and never finished.
I talked to my mom today for 31 minutes and 35 seconds. Strange that I remember such a precise number hours after... I love her... but I think everyone is happier that we live in different countries. I was reading someone's post today (you probably know who you are), and remnants of the rage I felt my senior year surfaced. The night before graduation I sat at the edge of the cliff, watching the orange haze of a foggy Hanover immersed in rage. it consumed me until even my sleep (propped between two stones), was angry. I wanted to retaliate, to destroy, to hurt her in some way. I felt helpless and unable to understand why... if I'd been able to drive I suspect I would have disappeared... and I wonder if I'd have come back. I was lucky in some ways - after the separation/divorce my dad always took my side - and it felt like I had an ally against my mother's complaints. But at the same time - after my dad left, there was no one else in the house to temper my mother's behavior, no one to act as mediator. I was also lucky... five days after graduation my mother moved out, and I lived on my own for a summer.
I've got a white piece of paper of my wall, written in bold black letters, "Where do I begin to say I love you? or I don't want to see you again? Can I write it on the wall? Will that help to end my frustration, my need for something you don't have? What will make this right. Ten more cakes and a lot of sex? I just want silence in my head. To feel secure with myself. I want... to know without having to ask. To be sure without all the stuff between. I want love, but what is that isn't you?"
i don't want him to call, because I'm afraid it will ruin my calm.
Someone's dog is barking - that almost hysterical bark that makes me a little bit sad. it sounds like Daniel when he's too upset to listen, and won't stop screaming "I'm not listening, I'm not listening" I love the boys, with that aggravated sense of occasional desperation.
The wind is blowing, and I wish I was outside.