i'd like to watch the sun come up in a strangers arms..
there are words building up inside of my head - trapped in between the cold and the lost and the what now, who are you, why did i do that or think this. i almost want to try plucking some out just to feel the rest of my head try to sort itself out. i can't, though. they are in there and holding things in place until i can deal with some of them. or perhaps so that
i might never have to deal with them at all.
i have felt an exhaustion of sorts creeping into me the last few days. i want to label it tired of trying or tired of caring but it's not that - there is more. i realize that right now there is not a single person who knows me entirely, and i don't see that i will ever let anyone know me in that way again. while this carries with it some level of profound sadness, i find myself convinced that it is easier and as a result more sensible.
i'm told this sensibility stuff is important.
i haven't seen many birds, lately. it is so cold and i think even the strongest are quivering amidst tree branches somewhere, at this point. i want to see the rows of tiny feet perched on
power lines sagging in the heat. i want to walk outside and not in one place for an hour every night.
having started to re-read a portion and hopefully finish the
autobiography of
Benazir Bhutto reminds me that i do not always pick the best sorts of things to read when i am feeling this way. the descriptions of torture and the injustice and the horrifying things that people do to eachother. at one point she is discussing some things that occurred in Pakistan the year i was born and i felt so sick to my stomach to think of it all. i felt sick all day today, as a result. and maybe i am just tired because people disappoint me on so many levels on such a regular basis.
recently though, i finished reading
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. and for this i am grateful. it was given to me as a Christmas gift, a seemingly random selection from a large bookstore. it won some awards and high praise from several reputable sources. initially, i didn't know quite what to make of it. now i think of it as a sort of modern
Love In The Time of Cholera. it has also convinced me that there is little reason to pursue a romantic relationship, or any sort of relationship really, beyond the incomprehensible need to torture ones self.