Thursday, April 20, 2006
smileysmiley my prettybaby

some days i suspect that i'm delusional. other days i know i am. it's gotten to the point where i don't know what i am anymore, which part of me is what i am and which part i wear like a robe. there's the kick i get from saying shocking things that i (maybe) don't mean. it's just too frightening to take yourself seriously. in case other people do, too. it's easier to deny yourself. for the record, i'm not really violent.. it's just my way of talking. it kinda comes with the caustic voice. i keep saying something in the hope of it coming true, and i know you're all smiling indulgently at my stubborness, but hey, it's coming true.. sort of.

it isn't so much the object itself, but the idea of the object. not so much who the person is, but what. right here, right now, anyway. in your context.

i get a little frightened that i'm a little self-destructive. i've always had a tendency to be attracted to people with destructive/ violent behaviour. someone who would grab me by the wrist so hard i'd bruise. who would leave blueblack fingerprints on the pulse of my soul. someone with a hidden coiled tension about to spring, coiled like the drawing in of oneself and knotted loosely like the holding of a breath. i'm not afraid to die. i'm only afraid of living, or not living, or maybe both. if living is the loving of (and fighting against) and the struggling to find that something, someone. so paradoxical. maybe all i really see in such people is a fevered intensity, a needlepoint worth of conflicting emotions and a charming complexity. who taught you that this is what you wanted?

it would please you to know that i am re-sorting myself out. it appears to be an on-going process that is likely to be repeated for the rest of my life, until i'm so sick of alternating between trying to figure myself out, and deluding myself about the bits i can't accept, that i go crazy and join and nudist colony. (in reality, this translates into me pretending to be relatively normal..)

but i do know what is living. i know what it has to be. i know it all theoratically, everything is bound by theories and philosphies and sealed with theology. but sometimes being rational isn't enough, you've got to feel it, breathe it, be it. 'as the deer panteth for the water, so my soul longs after You'.. random thought: why is the first half of the sentence in old english and the second half in modern?
8:31 PM ; 0 comments