2003-08-02; 9:18 a.m.
my most sinful daydream...
... is anger.
Used to, I would fade away into beauty and happiness; I would curl my back to drear and bask in nonexistent love.
Younger, bright-eyed, giggling at it all.
Older, dark-eyed, searching for laughter.
In psychology class, I listen for a while (did you know that most people can listen to 600/700 words per minute?) before I begin to fade. Too hungry for righteousness to hear anymore.
Most vivid is the fact that I can go on a lengthy tirade - speaking, speaking STRONGLY, hammering and forcing my fury into the receiver. always someone distinct. my father. my brother. hope. matt. pat. mrs. sue. ...where in reality, I stammer, colour, and say much less than I intend to, unwilling to confess my anger.
I always feel just on the brink of embracing something deeper, accepting it and wielding it to make my way in the world. I love my daydreams more than anything; even the angry ones give me a warm, satisfied feeling of completion. ... but it is not enough.
I have things to say.
Not here, not in daydreams, but things that can only be expressed by screaming them at the very top of my lungs - screaming from the top of a tree while lightning drives into my breast in the rain. screaming, yelling wrath along the length of my arm while I hold someone by the front of their shirt.
I'm not cynical. I'm repressed.
Fuck you, time.
.. so tired .. - 2003-09-14
..dogs & keith .. - 2003-09-01
..eyeless, lipless, earless.. - 2003-08-07
my most sinful daydream... - 2003-08-02
...brilliant huxley... - 2003-08-01