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Composition

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"Everything counts a little more than we think..."

12 March 2004 Friday

ramble on a thursday night

slated in mused at 12:51 am

in general, i wonder if time really ever changes anything
people go on with their lives.. they create and find new elements to fill int he place of the old
sometimes
it’s never quite the same
but sometimes it’s okay

anyway, with _.. _ wasn’t new to me
just very much exemplified what already digusted me
but i loved ___ anyway
and was there as best as i could be whenever ___ asked me to be
sometimes it’s okay, i guess
if i knew that all of that… whatever it is.. for whatever reason.. if i know that after all of that, ___ still deserved my love
then maybe it would be okay
i think i’m okay with most everyone else by that..
i guess that could mean i can’t really be okay with ___2 then,
even if i think i am
because i know ___2 doesn’t deserve my love
but maybe ___2 would have, if our paths had not crossed quite as they had. well.. maybe not even then
but with ___, there isn’t much of that question
___ doesn’t and didnt’ deserve it
and of course i’m the silly one
i’m the one who, well
whyt he hell haven’t i gotten over it?
why was i nervous today?
is that discomfort with ___?
with myself?
if it had just been ___? and not someone else whose opinion of me matters to me?
maybe it would have been different
but it was an interesting combination
and somehow
somewhere along the line
i’ve allowed myself to think that maybe i have to be careful
that i’m not queen of every room i walk into
that everyone won’t know/remember who i am and of course never have stopped loving me since they’ve known me
maybe
where and when, then
and i know i could solve this if i were outside looking in
and i know …
you know, i don’t do this anymore
offhandedly, i don’t think i do
the thorough, sudden honesty of myself, with myself…
with anyone….
every now and then, i suppose
but not so much if it’s particularly about me
which makes me consider
if this is really about me
only me, anyway
in all the most important ways ~*~ audience->
i am the same person of five years ago
i trust that i am
i remember parts of me then…
i remember leaving UM..
i remember having a hell of a year over things then
i don’t calm..
not so much
i don’t panic, i don’t falter
but more and more…
i do hesitate
i am composed
but i’m increasingly less willing ot be
i wonder if maybe
i suspect that maybe.. perhaps
knowing ourselves
knowing each other
knowing the truth of the present, and past, and any time and any thing…
sometimes it’s not enough
you know what?
maybe some of those times…
it’s okay.
even if we seem to lose a little
giving in a bit
risking something along the way
or outright giving up a few things
a little bit
. then to just remember
that there’s so much left for ourselves

i’ve been reluctant.. and even unwilling, outright…
to explain myself, more and more, often and lately
to define what i do and what i think
to describe my actions and plans and sometimes my intentions
i think i’m more willing to discuss my intentions
but then
people don’t instinctinvely ask about that
and having enough time to myself with my own
i find so many extra avenues
and it becomes much more complicated
i do that, i don’t i
complicated is something i do pretty easily
believe it or not, i can think simply, too
or at least think things out that way
i can.
it simply requires a self-imposed tunnel vision.
and crossing out of the extraneous
of all the possibilities
and limiting
arbitrarily or dictatedly
just limiting and deciding, and following through.
i can do that.
i was sure i could do that…
anything one can do….
everyone likes to say
either one or the other:
that love is enough
or that it isn’t.
i figure it depends on what you want it for
with a little bit of imagination
and/or tunnel vision
anything can be anything
so is this babbling?
maybe…
i extend that the last few dozen lines have been moving toward it
but i would still call it something more along the lines of a ramble
which began with somewhat of a rant
my body needs much more sleep than it ever seemed to before
and it rarely seems satisfied, anymore, with the amount it gets
story of life, perhaps, when you stop to consider… emotion and passion…. to desire as the root of all evil, right?
whether that’s right or wrong, desire is the root of most everything, in every form
but so many things to desire
and so many components to satisfy
desire to think.. to write.. to type.. to sleep.. to read.. to webdesign.. to clean my room.. to pick up my phone.. to drink water.. to consider myself a while…
compromise on the sleep
i can lay in bed for a bit, at first
i can do another three or four of those things together, then
the other things?
i guess they have to wait
maybe that’s what it is about everything that’s not yet quite in sight
do you think i still believe in myself?
do you think i should?
do you think i could live if i didn’t?

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