Monday 7 January 2002 // 1318 EST

Seeing: Far too much late night television

Hearing: Hybrid -- Theme From Wide Angle

Touching: All my new toys, all hooked up and werking...

Tasting: Peanut Butter and Jelly on Toast

Thinking:

I have a problem with letting go.

I've known it for a long time, letting go of the past, not thinking the things I don't want to know and not remembering the things I don't want to rememeber, letting the past slip behind me like it should and moving on to the future...I keep the past in my active mind just a little longer than I should, I remember the things I've done and the people I know a little longer than I should. I keep those things in my head too long.

I have a problem with letting go.

Letting the memories and the feelings fall behind me like handkerchiefs lost out the windows of moving trains, Watching the lines on the highway roll behind the car when someone else is driving...that's what it's supposed to be like, letting it all go away, letting it wash out of you...and it is, it really is...it's just that I linger...I hold on to that handkerchief a little longer than most people would, I trace that line on the road with my eyes a little longer than someone else would, and while I'm still looking at the old one, the next person is already watching the next one fall behind us..

I have a hard time letting the people who really should fall behind me into my past behind me, and I have a hard time accepting the losses that I've taken. I have a hard time letting the things I've done and the feelings I felt go away, they linger inside me like a cancer, affecting everything I do. I see the eyes of someone I loved once and the rush of emotion that was spread out over my entire time with them flies through my mind so quickly it makes me stagger, it makes me uncomfortable. I saw her eyes again, the first time in a while, and immediately wondered what was in her mind, something I can never ever know for sure, something I can never understand. I saw her eyes and tried not to look too deeply because I was so deathly afraid of feeling what I did, and knowing that I didn't want to be trapped again. That was her.

And then her. I look into her eyes and finally believe her when she tells me what I want to hear, I finally understand a little more than I did, and I'm finally a little more bold than I ever was...something beautiful out of it's shell, we are-not as one, but as two, separate jewels, sparking in the twilight, sitting next to each other-looking as companions would but not truly. Regardless, we sit aside one another and enjoy each other and our company, and we're blissful that way. But I try not to feel quite too deeply or let my mind wander quite too far, I try not to allow myself the luxury of dependancy, which will only lead downwards. I try to keep a healthy distance, and while that distance may not be as far as sometimes it should be, I am happy, I am content, and as long as I am happy right now, I think not of the future and what it holds. As long as tomorrow is like today was like yesterday, then I'll hold together.

I can't let it go.
Those things, those memories, I can't let them go. I still shudder in embarrassment at things I did months ago, I still wonder about the fates of people I spoke to years ago. Perhaps that's the reason why I'm so thrilled when lady fate takes my pain far away from me...takes the object of my hatred away, takes the object of my lust too far that I can't reach, takes the object of my stress far enough that I can't see...perhaps that's why I like those things so much...walk in, do your thing, then walk out, no strings attached, but only as long as I get to stay here.

In the meantime, I watch the snow fall from the sky like dreams, like hopes and wishes, so prefect and crystalline, so individual and so different and yet so alike at the same time, I watch them fall and float, bend to the wind and yet persevere until they get to the warm maryland ground, where they dissolve and become something completely different, some of them wasted and lost forever on the cars and asphalt, left only to be destroyed, then dried up and reborn in a different fashion, to fall again another time, and then I watch others fall and touch the warm soil and dissolve again, but this time to nurture and to give life to something that may not have had the opportunity to live. The analogy has been made before by writers and poets, lovers and philosophers, all much greater than I, but snowflakes are very much like people...so much that it's stunning.

And I watch my dreams and my aspirations fall ever so delicately from the heavens along with everyone else's, and I wonder where it'll land, whether it will see fruition, whether it will do some good, whether something will come from it, or whether nothing will arise this time, whether I'll feel wasted, feel empty, and whether I'll be left to hope for a dream on another day, another sky, another time and another place.

The sky is overcast, and it's just dark enough that the sunlight isn't intrusive.

I like this weather.