2003-02-27 - 9:08 p.m.
cigarette ash flies in your eyes and you don't mind...
i hope you take a piece of me with you."
this time has almost physically discernable phases through which i can feel myself passing. i am exhausted, so tired. my anger has drained, though to be perfectly honest, i am sorry. anger, at least, was something. it was the fire of revolution. i wanted blood. now, i just want quiet and to rest. when i was angry, i had something to say, and anger is somewhat coherent and understandable. lethargy and ironic apathy are impenetrable. if i had friends (which, at this point, appears doubtful), they would find me intolerable. they should. and i think part of my retreat is my desire to preserve the dignity and purity that those relationships once possessed. so that i don't have to despise them for sardonically patting me on the back in my compromise. and so that i don't do it to them. misery ought to loath company.
hope creeps back sometimes. briefly, and it feels less like hope than like peace. the center holds. but that is all. everything else is in shards around my dusty feet ("amongst remains of a life i should not own"). and yet, i feel the pull of something else, something other than what i see here, in the faces of my mother, my sisters... i don't know what it will be, but mine is a different path
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ta for now, friends. even i cannot handle so much enjoyment all at once.
don't worry. i'm over the worst of the rage.
