time

ticking along. counting milliseconds..can you see them? I can. I feel them in a porous orange peel, in the first citrus smell under my fingernail..how long it takes to make a cut through to the pulp, the heart. how long it takes to forget what you knew..milliseconds. can you feel a millisecond? Does it seem to last hours, days, years, this hope that takes less than a second to root itself into your skin, like some parasitic vine, grasping your limbs as it climbs, taking your heart, suffocating your lungs, killing your breath, till it explodes its life out your mouth in short gasps of vivid blooming desperation?

milliseconds. that's all it took for me to know you. a millennium will pass before one millisecond ends.

It's been quite a while.

What do you say when there is so much to say?

Really I'm just about contemplating how dream like life is. Was it the Hindus or Buddhists that said that life is another dream state? It feels like that, doesn't it? I feel like all the little things are just buzzing bees around my head, I can tune them in or tune them out. What's real is my writing. What's real is whether or not I have a house to live in. What's real is John. And even these things are in a dream state most of the time. John becomes upset about something small, I tell him all that matters is that we are here with each other, at this time in place. It's true yes? Yesterday is a memory and the future hasn't happened.

Still my favorite thing is to think about the future. If you aren't satisfied with who you are in the present, the future dreaming is the favorite pasttime of you. And that's me.  I think I'm too hard on myself, but as I wrote that sentence there my world became small and magnified--as if I caught some truth.

Why am I not happy with myself in the present? What can I do to change that?
Right now, I should be eating an orange, not smoking.
I should be listening to my favorite music
I should be opening windows to the world.
I should be writing.


I just realized I've close myself from myself. But why am I so scared to be who I am?

I'm letting myself die.

Rereading The Stranger by Camus

I have a friend who lives and dies on Camus and also Satre. I'm rereading The Stranger. I have read other things by Albert but I was never impressed with this one book, while she's adamant about the overall strength of it. I must say even this second time around I am not impressed. I'm not moved. I'm not hurt, or loved by it. I'm nothing; it's nothing. I do not get the appeal of something that does nothing to move you.

Another semester starts tomorrow.

Once I have graduated next May (assuming I'm not sabotaged again), I really won't know what identity I own. I've been a student for so long, I can't imagine not being one. At least it will be time to be a teacher again...a role I cherish when I'm abroad.

Indonesia. It's on my mind. I'm almost sold. Must get ESL license to solidify my plans.

Will be publishing some analog photography soon through Amanda.

Somehow I'm managing rent without working. It's very strange.

I'm sure I should look over my shoulder before the bubble bursts.

Something clicked in my mind, or How I Found Sanity Through Prozac.

Think the prozac is working. Things are ordered, hopeful and clear in my mind. I know what I have to do and I'm ready to do it to get the end result that I want. I feel inspired, and I'm feeling much more sane about my relationship.

All good things.

I've decided once I graduate I'm traveling. First, South, if they'll have me. No reason to stay in the same place for long periods of time. I'm free.

Times, they are a changin'.

My best friend is dead.
The girl I love is across the world and suffering.
My ex haunts my mind.
and the only person I want to talk to about it all is not returning my emails.


Life, I tell you. If it doesn't kill you, it kills you anyway.

Ah, my heart is losing it.

She had a miscarriage, after a night of sex bordering on the masochistic. I promised her we would get through it together.


My part:

Be there.
Take a daily tally of things to do and get them done.
Reclaim myself so I'm recognizable when I come out the other end of this in 10 months.
Be there for her.