mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- over and under Thinking about how an event can mean so much to one person and so little to another. Thinking about perception. I had a dream last night that Jeromy's (yeah, I've decided to use his real name, uncommon spelling and all) Mother came to my house and fed me candy and told me how much her son was going to fuck me up. She said, in the dream, "All men cheat. You won't be enough." And I kind of went, yeah, you're right, I'm worthless, tra-la-la. Who cares, I know. It doesn't mean anything, in the long run- I'm gonna live for awhile, and then I'm gonna die, and the world will keep on going and who cares about some stupid fears I had when I was twenty? (I do this sometimes- Like, I'll look at my computer or a tube of scented hand-cream or my red bed-sheets, and all I can think about is how nothing really means anything because eventually, I'll be a mound of dust and some bones and all of my belongings will be in a trash heap somewhere, so why bother? It's worse lately- When I saw my Grandfather, before they took him off of his bed and zipped him into a big black bag, his skin was hard and yellow and hanging offof his bones. His face... His face wasn't his face anymore. It was just a skull covered in loose flesh. He loved a woman for thirty years, and he had children and step-children and grandchildren, and he made hundreds of friends and dozens of enemies and he saw the world and he learned and he taught and he made a home for himself and for what? To become a body? To lose it all, to die and be taken away by strangers in suits and to be put into an oven and scattered over Red Rock? Fuck.) I just wonder- I go crazy wondering- what am I supposed to do from now until the day I die to make my life mean something? I dissect it so much that nothing seems to make sense- Like when you repeat a word over and over until it's just a collection of sounds and it doesn't have meaning anymore. Love. I'm supposed to love and be loved and be happy, and I'm supposed to feel deeply and give freely and I'm supposed to see the great, beautiful world and all of the great, beautiful people in it. I'm supposed to absorb light and then spread it around where there isn't any, and then this big, confusing stretch of consciousness will have been worthwhile. I can't be afraid to trust, not anymore. 11:26 p.m. - 2003-07-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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