3.
Now the page is filled with letters and associations I no longer can decipher and I'm wondering if the fun of it all was just knowing the code. I don't feel much of anything for anyone, when I left the bar last weekend I walked in the mist and thought about how nice it would be to disappear, if only I could think of a reason why. It's a terrible way to cry out for attention, no one ever notices you're gone until you return. So you may as well stick around and save yourself the airfare. The world feels less conspiratorial, maybe just because I've grown bored of all this mindless treason. It's not betrayal if you really don't care. I'll confess there is comfort in paranoia. I miss the feeling of being watched, it's better than feeling alone.
Now I'm tasked with understanding: is there anything left to be said once no one's listening? When the delusions of relevance wane, is it time to admit you just wanted to be heard? The obvious answer is yes and yes, the less obvious answer is how? I've dabbled with obstruction and just ended up confused, there is only so much fudging of the details possible before you start to damage the Whole Point. And if you are so concerned with obscuring yourself, was there ever really a point to begin with? I miss my open heart. I don't think about the summer or the fall. Sometimes I think about the winter but then I forget. I try to imagine the next few months and I can't. I'm angry, then I'm not. If you think this is about you it's not. Everything is so different now.
2.
Another day of trying to catch up. Another day of trying to decide. Another day of tabs I can't seem to close. The Dance Studio Mid-rise Pant from Lululemon. The religious studies MA. The Indigo Five-Pocket Jeans, size 27, only 3 remaining. The ssense shopping bag, containing the Indigo Five-Pocket Jeans, because there are only 3 remaining, a show of good faith. So much purgatory to escape. They're cutting service on the G train from July through August. So much purgatory to escape. I wish I knew a better way to structure the hours, but I only know how to fill them. R returns Wednesday night, Thursday is the board meeting then the talk then the return to the castle. After that another week of something and nothing, then it will turn to February and I'll be 26. I said 25 was going to be my year and it was, wasn't it? There was momentum and time frozen still, what more could I ask for?
1.
so much of life is just trying to distract yourself from the horror of time passing. Nothing ever stops. Days pass and weeks pass and people go in and out, ignore you at parties, you ignore them right back, it doesn't get easier because it's never been hard.
new year new me same old story ....