How I'll never look at stars the same...
It's just a saying that came to mind; something that might be a from a movie after a scene where a couple spent a night staring up at the sky. I guess I see the last two years like that. Staring out into the future, looking at plans/goals, making those things happen.
There is so much hurt that I can't feel. All of the pain tries to fly out at once and only ends up flooding the channels. I'm sweating. Flash.
Maturity...it's like this straight jacket that we put on because to chide and become irrational when we hurt is somehow unbecoming. The feeling of wanting to shred their clothes, box their belongings and break things isn't healthy, but pleading cliches like, "if you love someone, set them free" is the enlightened way of channeling that same energy. We don't call that delusional.
I vowed in my head that if this did not work that I would not put myself through this again. Now I'm facing that in the mirror and realizing how final it feels. There's a dim sense of contentment in reviving the fire in me of being single--the freedom. But it's so dim right now and I'm too tired for months of wearing down to really cultivate that into light. I want to stop flashing with this heat right now. I want to be held. I want it to be all okay. I want it to stop. I want it to stop.
Tuesday, December 17, 2002
Friday, December 06, 2002
12-06-2002
COPIED:
Journal Entry: Friday, December 6th, 2002
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It's a feeling of unfocused anger. It's rage that has no project to complete. There's no poetry that I want to write. It's a sense of helplessness surrounded by a group of powerful people that will smile as they step on you and yet feel bad as they do it and continue to do so. Oh what it is to be an ant in the Christian world.
I'm not a fighter by design. I became this way by means of an environment. There's still that dream that a different path might have been taken; one where I would have been shielded by this in a life of academia. Instead, I have eaten from the tree and cannot go back.
Am I intolerant? How can one tolerate something that is unacceptable? And if that question is asked on both sides of the issue, then truly there can be no peace for it's a fundamental divide and each side holds to their own righteousness
Journal Entry: Friday, December 6th, 2002
=======================================
It's a feeling of unfocused anger. It's rage that has no project to complete. There's no poetry that I want to write. It's a sense of helplessness surrounded by a group of powerful people that will smile as they step on you and yet feel bad as they do it and continue to do so. Oh what it is to be an ant in the Christian world.
I'm not a fighter by design. I became this way by means of an environment. There's still that dream that a different path might have been taken; one where I would have been shielded by this in a life of academia. Instead, I have eaten from the tree and cannot go back.
Am I intolerant? How can one tolerate something that is unacceptable? And if that question is asked on both sides of the issue, then truly there can be no peace for it's a fundamental divide and each side holds to their own righteousness
Tuesday, December 03, 2002
Strobes
I once put a strobe light in the bathroom while I was taking a shower and realized that the water coming out of the shower head was not one continuous stream, but really individual droplets moving so fast as to seem like they were connected. People can be similar.
