archival. poor friend got this in email. decided i needed to post it. if nothing else, a reminder of why i really need to stay in bed regardless insomnia.
read your poem. interesting as usual. sitting here at o’dark thirty because i can’t sleep. slept too long in the afternoon, brain drained from work. now… insomnia.
thinking about things tonight. not in a good way. probably not worth going into. just saying.
missing people i never met and wishing dreams were more like reality because it doesn’t seem fair they hurt more when they die.
crying, of course. seems required. not sad, mostly angry frustrated why the fuck can’t it ever just be right tears. i’d say it is hard to explain, but it isn’t. just hard to experience and impossible to manifest. obviously.
i feel like short words. staccato. succinct. punctuated perilous pissed off-edness.
you’d think the law of averages would mean i’d get better things… even if only rarely. i suspect the law is fixed. wonder who paid the vig and if they sleep well at night.
obviously, i do not.
i still think about heath. mostly nostalgia… you know the way you remember good things that never really happened? so weird to miss something you never had. i’m not sure i understand it. or why i need it. but i stopped kicking myself for it a while ago.
thinking about rick, too. the many ricks. hah. you have no idea the number of ricks i know. it’s more than strange. ricks, mikes, and seans. i suppose if i stuck with them i would be happier.
flash of humor… leave it to me to want heaths and dagans in my life when i should have learned to be content with ricks and mikes and seans years ago. but they always wind up being brothers and friends.
granted, i was more than happy to have heaths and dagans as brothers and friends… but it would seem those names are only owned by paranoiacs and narcissists and thus, impossible to have in your life unless you’re willing to constantly sacrifice yourself to them.
ah well, suppose i’ll pass.
i dunno. i’m…. not sad. not really angry. perhaps even floating in the middle. kind of feels like nexus… all things touching center, i am trembling with the effort of no effort and wondering if it means i must choose.
frankly, lately, i’d prefer not to. i think it’s high time things chose me and i’m considering going on strike from this whole choosing thing.
hear me? fuck you, choice. and fuck you to all of you not choosing me.
yeah. that sounds about right for now.
maybe.
insomnia is kind of odd for rampant weirdness in the thought department.
ah well. suppose i should find a hammer.
actually, i’ve decided to blog this. but you’re getting it first.
not sure if i should smile ‘aren’t you lucky’ at you or apologize.
anyway. back to bed.