| now is | once was | came from | heard tell |

1:27 a.m. - 2004-08-15

cowardly

My cat has this funny look on her face when I come into the house crying. She always runs to the door to greet me, but if I'm crying she pulls up short and seems lost for a course of action. I stumble into my room and onto my bed, hiding my face between the hood of my coat and my bedsheets. I can hear the bell on her collar ringing as she paces back and forth in the hallway, unsure of what to do. I lie on my bed and cry for loud, long minutes; there's no-one home but me and the cat. She's all I have to explain myself to. No housemates will come and interrupt me for explanation.

It's like this spear got lodged in me, somewhere in the lower gut. One of those strange incongruities you're just expected to live with. "Oh hi, pleased to meet you- please ignore that spear in my gut. That? Oh, never mind, it's just a… souvenir, you know. Interesting times". I'm never sure if it's public or private, a thing that only I know or if it’s there for everyone to see. Sometimes I go for days at a time, not thinking about it, but then it gets jostled. Something calls it up. And it hurts, every time, like the first moment. When you realise that the worst possible thing is in process. And will be in process. And is completely unmindful of you, in fact, in the universe of the event, you're not a registered concern. You do not exist, except as audience. Your interpretation is yours only. No-one else is hurt by the event, the ongoing event, as much as you are. It is unique. Does it make you feel special somehow?

Or is it just this? Some pathetic girl crying all the way home down the empty streets, and a confused cat who is purring while she bites my hands. It's not unique, not by a long shot. And it's not nearly as interesting as it should be. Getting bored by your own trauma, now that's a new low to hit. Yeah.

I gotta get outta here. Hit the road somehow. Any means possible will do.

- |+

[Phone Home] - 2005-02-22

[She hurts, even from here, she hurts.] - 2005-02-11

[Two weeks and counting] - 2005-01-31

[Dirty] - 2005-01-20

[Here Now] - 2005-01-18