Jul. 29, 2004 - 10:55 a.m.
wasting time

I was just reading through some of my old entries from last fall. November/December.

The signs were all there that I was going to get into trouble. I said over and over again how I was not ready, how I knew that if I fell in love again it would be disastrous. How I knew that the sweet things, the caressing, the denial of sex and the physical care in its stead would cause me to fall because they actually meant something to me.

I knew it. I knew it. I said that I wanted to stay away from great guys because I would hurt them or they would hurt me and it would just be a mess. And it was. And it is, and how I regret, ONCE AGAIN, the way things have become.

Regret is death. I know this and everyone else does. It makes you hate your life and hate what you've become. And now I can feel it again, settling in, I wish I'd never met you, or you, or you, or you, or you. All of you who came into my life and showed me that I could act without presence of mind, and that I had no control over myself and my heart and mind whatsoever. Some might think that's a favour. Here you go - a window directly into yourself - this is what you are like. But it's not. It's made me feel awful and loveless and useless and separate from everyone else on this earth.

There's a line in the book I'm reading right now that really hit home.

"No life is a waste," the Blue Man said. "The ony time we waste is the time we spend thinking we are alone."

- Mitch Almob, "the five people you meet in heaven"

I suppose that makes me the supreme waster of time. But I really can't help it. Anyway, I'm still lost and I'm still not sure what to do and I still have so many regrets and anger and frustration and sadness and resentment. I can't be a productive member of anything right now, let alone a friendship or society or whatever else we're supposed to be productive members of.

I feel terrible today. And me with two days of work left.

I really, truly, have no concept of reality, whatsoever.

It's terrifying.

old bitching - random - new bitching

Reads Like:
the five people you meet in heaven - Mitch Albom - what a beautiful beautiful book. please read it.
Sounds Like:
nothing
Feels Like:
hurt hurt sad sad hurt hurt sad sad

1 fussbugets said...



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