Jan 04, 2003 01:16
"have a sip. i think it may calm you down."
the gulps that followed were hot and stayed in my throat for hours. calm me down? all he did was spoil my appetite and increase my sex drive. hm. i'm thinking about talking to him about it.
my head is dancing little circles around itself. this is so typical. i spit a few words at him and he draws me a little closer. we're doing something of a dance now, or i suppose an intoxicated sway better describes it, and he assures me that when reality anchors itself again i'll have some apathetic bittersweetness to it and forget in a few days anyway. he promises that it's only blunt because our minds are elsewhere and that in the morning i'll take a shower and introspect and decide that i'm better off.
i guess that's going to have to do.
closure is something of a paradox. a dreaded but desirable augmentation to the end of something beautiful. a book isn't well written if the ending is abrupt and nonsensical. what does that say about all this? i've been skeptical, to say the least, toward the honesty in those promises we swallowed. i've been wondering if our author has given us another bomb.
tomorrow is just later today, right?