I can't stand it. Or can I? Things are just so muddled. So, so, so irrevocably muddled. All of these people in my life. Swirling around me, in my orbit and outside. Some I wish were not in my orbit, others I yearn for their company within my own. I would like to build something -- but you'd never see it happen.
Burning like there's always been.
Never been so alive? Bullshit? Is this true? Sometimes I don't feel very alive. Sam's right; it's all surreal. So surreal... I feel vulnerable to normality. Anything normal offers itself up for comfort, and I'm there like a leech in a lake.
Where are you? What are you doing? Have you thought of me any? To this I ask several people, gone and unknown whether they will return.
My heart is heavy.