they're all singing in loud tremulous melodies and i'm packed into the corner seat like a potato chip at the bottom of the bag, crumbling. hating their solidarity gives me something to cling to. i stare down at my feet and materialize back into reality for a moment, streetlights flickering past the corner of my eye that's focusing on the nothing ahead of me. this song will end.

sometimes we have goals for so long that we forget why we have them at all. we hide inside their familiarity, raising them over our heads and tucking them around our arms like cool sheets on a summer night. i found myself faced with my old goal, my oblivious desire, and i was so used to being inadequate that i did not know how to act. i laid there in the faceoff. the referee dropped the puck and neither of us moved, leaving me sleepless and uncomfortable as minutes wore into hours.

those who unwittingly hold way too much power over me should not tease me or trick me into thinking that maybe it is time to reach the summit of the mountain i perch perilously on the side of, time ticking by without meaning. when i heal myself, i do not need old wounds reopened with a sledgehammer.

past future

last five entries:
blisters and bruises - 03.18.08
dorsey - 03.13.07
finding peace - 02.02.07
unintentional clean slate - 09.11.06
natural born cyborg - 06.23.06