2004-02-22 - 1:42 p.m.

fucking fuck.

for the first time in my life, since i was actually depressed some college summer and when i was horribly alcoholic and bulemic in europe, i feel like i am fending off waves of depression. which is fucking obsurd as i have nothing so legitimately to be depressed about, with the exception of severe nihilism and the discovery that

life

just

is.

i have waves of joy and pure intoxication of the worlds simple, free joys. like the diamonds flashing on the peculiarly small leaves of the tree this morning. or the burst of an expressive cloud pounding in life to those who dare to look up. but i woke up lonely. all weekend i've felt like i want a fucking boyfriend. a true partner that doesn't make me nautious in the morning. not like the last few where i'm trying to fit someone into the roll whose chemistry doesn't fit. but that genuine someone. my friend, the bird said it was just the rain. rain builds cravings for a snuggle movie tuna melt session in bed.

and so i fantasize briefly on M being that person cuz i take to him. but he is off dealing with his broken heart and that may be the only fucking real reason i fantasize hard on him, is because i fuckin know he can't supply on my demand!! and this is breaking me in two. i'm allowing it to infiltrate a suddle, heavy lethargy into my entire overcasting days... or daze. i'll be in the car and wonder if i'm really there. i won't remember the past two hours or even having bought that car or really that it is mine. it's like i'm not owning or living my life. and yet here the fuck i am, ever so present, not drunk, really here, often saturated in the moment, seeing, smelling, hearing everything. and yet i feel so fucking gone.

somewhere inside i wonder if it will all cement or make sense once my human instinct to procreate is fufilled. if that will be the only key.

do i need to be on meds? i have friends and family on med's who still have their shit like this to deal with. so i'm trying to curtail the plastic bottle offerings of solidarity and solution. i'll just try to sit through it and loftily hope something *else* is around the corner, awarded for my patience and "trust". hahahha.

it was so much easier constantly filling with validation, impulse and satiation of immediate wants. now i've been actively sitting back, not so much looking to meet a new piece of candy to feel filled up. and it feels like the air in a vacumous space. cool and black and perfectly empty like the space far beyond our world. filled with carbons and freezing points and absolute disappearance.

i guess i think a boyfriend would fill me? fix this hole? it does, until that sensation sneeks back in and i start to become a terror wanting more fixed and i start fighting to feel alive. and i start argueing and becoming sick and inviting them there. and the sick ones join, and i usually pick the sick ones. fuck, you guys. this just feels so indescribeable. i just want it to make sense.

and the really ripped off part to me is that i have all this work stuff that desperately needs my 'leadership' and spastic, fierce energy to be launched. the bizness, those that want to believe in it, those i need to convince of it need the fire from me. and all i feel is smoking ash and i'm not a good bullshiter.

how do i show up and attempt to motivate others when i'm feeling like hiding in a padded cave with those foam pieces you can jump deep into at the bottom. the kind at the gymnasium. i want to hide in this padded, velvet dark cave where a soft violet light permeates and all sensation and emotion and thought are completely bereft, like the air sucked out of an sealed jar. and all i do is jump into the spaggetti foam, lay tired and content and maybe read book after book after book by this violet light. no one comes in and i never have to leave.

i think grace would like to be in a cave. i think spank might be convinced of his own. what color would yours be?

why do we plummet desperately further into life, away from a babbling, naive birth and as we get further in, we desperately want back *out*. back to where we came, some illusive, jelly like non-knowing where everything is bereft.

what is so untantilizing about life that we suddlely all want out? yet we all stay, but partially. most of us are only partially here. and we say live like its your last. cherish your life. you never know when it'll be 'taken'. haha. taken. where to? to my violet cave far within.