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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| Comfortably NumbIt's late. I'm sleepless. Exhausted as usual but not tormented. I've just gotten used to these hours. I'm also anxious about what's to come. Excited. Nervous. We'll see how it all unfolds soon. Besides that my mind scans through a handful of relevant thoughts. First, I'm happy-- I guess-- to say that I haven't crossed over into the land of the comfortably numb. I tried in various ways to compartmentalize and almost successfully fulfilled my needs in bits and pieces. Turns out, it was a fluke. I don't know how to come close and not connect. I also don't know how to connect without wanting to come close. I don't do stringless. And if I do stringless, I feel nothing. It's a lame observation because it means I can't really be the detached independent entity that I'd like to be right now. It's technically good news because I guess it means I'm still very much a warm-blooded woman... not so comfortably numb. Second, it appears my ability to project persists. It continues to pick targets and projects feelings onto them for no good reason. I'd like more than anything to turn this stereopticon off. While I may be comfortably alone, I'm apparently not subconsciously satisfied with that. I'm turning back to my old, bad habits. I know where these roads lead. I know the temporary hope of possibly finding the exception. I am hopeless. It needs to stop. I am tired of the disappointments to follow. How come I can't be impressed? Is this just an ugly face I'm making? And if I hold it long enough, will be really stay like this?
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| When the thrill subsidesThing is, there is a whole lot of random excitement round here but when the thrill subsides, I want someone to be comfortable with. Like a John Mayer song, I want a love so perfect and broken in. I want to know that he'll be there with or without the thrill. I want that connection that transcends time, space, and my everyday judges. There are too many as it is. I want security in my partnership. A real partner in crime. Live and die together, with or without the thrill. Because on some nights I'll want thrill. Oh, will I want thrill. Then, on other nights-- like a Bebo Norman song-- I'll want a to be where the tree stands still. When the thrill subsides, I'd like to know he'll still be there... Then again, I'd first have to know that I can make that same promise. When the thrill subsides, and it is the real deal, I imagine the tree really does stand still. Truth is, that's the mood I'm in tonight.
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| Sorry, I work alone.I came home from work late last night and felt no need to make any phone calls. I dropped by Del Taco, guiltily picked up some tacos, and settled down just in time to catch Sex And The City with my good friend Miller Lite. Again, felt no need to call anyone. It's been quite a few of these Fridays and Saturdays and every-other-day-of-the-week-days. Substitute Sex And The City for House, tacos for something healthier and homemade, and beer for a colorful cocktail of some sort. Other times, you can substitute all that with work... Endless, blind work. Have I become comfortable with being alone? I can't say I'm particularly happy or unhappy with this outcome and I think that's the part that bothers me most.
And the options swing by every now and then. The time-killers present detached wit, dispersed here and there throughout the day. And for most of my day I believe that this is exactly what I need. I have no time for more. I have no room in my life for more. I suppose it's mostly true. Then again, isn't love like jello? In the back of my mind, I hate to admit that maybe I'm not comfortably alone. Is it that I don't want to take any more bets? Perhaps the fear of losing to the house has finally cured my gambling problem.
And the suitors continue to reach out to what they believe is me. I'm sorry, I work alone. Cheers.
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| LettersThese letters I write that never make it to you
I write them in vain and hope for truth
For closure and healing and hopefully proof
That I can let this go without being burned
But the fire entices and my insides keep reeling
Can't seem to escape this unfinished feeling
Of wanting to undo the little healing
From the few lessons I've partially learned
These letters I write and stash away
I wonder if you'll read one day
When the ashes of our love's decay
Have finally found the peace they've earned
With each word I hope
To cut loose this rope
That still ties me to
The memory of you
- Kristine
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| Another silent dedication,Fed up with my destiny and this place of no return
Think I'll take another day and slowly watch it burn
It doesn't really matter how the time goes by
Cause I still remember you and I
And that beautiful goodbye
We staggered through these empty streets, laughing arm in arm
The night had made a mess of me, your confession kept me warm
And I don't really miss you, I just need to know
Do you ever think of you and I
And that beautiful goodbye
When I see you now, I wonder how
I could've watched you walk away
If I let you down, please forgive me now
For that beautiful goodbye
In these days of no regrets, I keep mine to myself
And all the things we never said, I can say for someone else
Cause nothing lasts forever, but we always try
And I just can't help but wonder why
We let it pass us by
When I see you now, I wonder how
I could've watched you walk away
If I let you down, please forgive me now
For that beautiful goodbye
And sometimes I cry...
It's a fool's lullaby
- "Beautiful Goodbye" by Amanda Marshall -
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