sono sfatta, i said [which echoes now]
Aug. 24th, 2001 04:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aslantit is rare that i do not finish the crossword, these days. it bores me. i need a better challenge.
m called and we spoke. she has not read any of this (yet). we discussed our deplorable timing and i think (i guess) we agreed on friendship. we agree that life is long, and absurd maybe, but conquerable in small steps if you take into account the many inherent contradictions. in my head i align this with other, too similar situations. i refrained from extracting promises to invite me to her wedding, because this is catty and untruthful and spiteful and incorrect. and not what i mean, at all, at all. all i mean to say is that i'm looking for some oblivion.
this morning while i was out i missed the bmb. this depresses me, as well.
i wrote a long email to mom and dad, replying to the continuing discussions. i referenced feminist reinterpretations of marxist theories (take that!) as well as two separate media sources. i feel as if the email ought to have included footnotes. or perhaps diagrams of logic, as i attempted to prove to them beyond a doubt that antony is not a sexual predator. it wearies me to continue these talks.
it is time to go home now and sleep away such disturbing thoughts, such wasted and empty afternoon hours, such finite and exhaustible frames of mind. i leave tasks undone on either side of me. antony promises to call and i wait for it, my limbs empty and disbelieving of distances. i want a magic word with which to end this, dispel this, a happy note for this frightening week. i can think of none. where is my lea, my windhidden hideaway? in londontown, where the pied piper lives, the dervish of love, the brighteyed sleekling. but today september is a helpless and hapless million miles away.
m called and we spoke. she has not read any of this (yet). we discussed our deplorable timing and i think (i guess) we agreed on friendship. we agree that life is long, and absurd maybe, but conquerable in small steps if you take into account the many inherent contradictions. in my head i align this with other, too similar situations. i refrained from extracting promises to invite me to her wedding, because this is catty and untruthful and spiteful and incorrect. and not what i mean, at all, at all. all i mean to say is that i'm looking for some oblivion.
this morning while i was out i missed the bmb. this depresses me, as well.
i wrote a long email to mom and dad, replying to the continuing discussions. i referenced feminist reinterpretations of marxist theories (take that!) as well as two separate media sources. i feel as if the email ought to have included footnotes. or perhaps diagrams of logic, as i attempted to prove to them beyond a doubt that antony is not a sexual predator. it wearies me to continue these talks.
it is time to go home now and sleep away such disturbing thoughts, such wasted and empty afternoon hours, such finite and exhaustible frames of mind. i leave tasks undone on either side of me. antony promises to call and i wait for it, my limbs empty and disbelieving of distances. i want a magic word with which to end this, dispel this, a happy note for this frightening week. i can think of none. where is my lea, my windhidden hideaway? in londontown, where the pied piper lives, the dervish of love, the brighteyed sleekling. but today september is a helpless and hapless million miles away.
