Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Scroll all the way to the bottom for the point. I have half a mind to. Do something. This morning, I charted a course half way. Half way. My second favorite place in the world, a town I stopped in on my way to Montana. Four hours and 50 minutes from me. Four hours and 45 minutes from you. But, even I have rules now. Even I have lines now, where there was nothing but empty space before. So, I have two minds. Maybe you can see my half split into fourths. I have two minds about appropriate actions, and the reactions to my inappropriate actions. And, I've sat and thought and smiled. If one takes close inventory of their life, they may realize they've got not much to lose. But you have to sit and think. Or you don't, shouldn't even. Because that's where trouble lies. . . . "She lives too much in her head, Carie. And there's a lesson there. I think you're doing a fine job of it, and I'm getting better. There's just a time when you have to listen to your heart, even if it is in direct contrast to your head." Yes, mom. But, what have I got for listening to my heart? . . . Again, offers to go to Kansas. Twenty minutes from Kansas City. But, mom, I've done all the growing I'd like to do for a while. I'm tired from it. Exhausted. I cleaned my pipe with the back of an earring. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay. Just let me get through this, I swear, it's only a phase. I'm living in my head. I have been for a while, maybe since I came back home. But see, my head is comfortable. My bed is there, and my cat, and my endless cigarettes... of which, I've been smoking too much, 'cause, I'm living in my head. I'll come out of here. Eventually. I'd like to come out, it's lonely here with all of the ghosts of everything before. And, I see everyone outside having a good time, and I sense that I could have a good time, too. If I could gain the courage to come out. I will. So, maybe it's not that I worry about myself so much. Not half as much as I worry about you. Living in your head, with all of your ghosts. I wish you would meet me outside of our heads. See? I wish I could make all of your invisiblities visable. And I mean the plural you, even if I'm thinking of a specific you. I mean ALL of you. And then, I know what will happen. I know, because I know you already. Even if I hope, really really hard. I know you. Yes, you may look differently, and speak differently, and you may move differently, but at your core, your motivations and intentions are the same. That's the line that's been drawn in the sand. That you look closely at your motivations and intentions, and you pray that I haven't heard them before. No, nothing as flimsy as I just want to get to know you, because what is the motivation behind that? What makes me worthy of that attention? Why? Yes, why? Am I psycho for writing this? No. I'm telling the truth. I'm matching you. I give what I expect to receive. Naked, always. It's always the truth, in the moment, as it escapes. The chart, maybe, will never be used. And, maybe, this time is wasted. Maybe, maybe, maybe. I'm sick of maybe's. I want yes and no. And this has been lost. I am not afraid of you. 9:25 p.m. - 2003-06-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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