1:22 p.m. - 2003-06-14
simple
it's never that simple.
i understand needing to be out, moving, the only live mind in a city of pavement and streetlights and deserted alleyways leading nowhere in particular.
the questioning and the angst and the indescribable change *is* unique to every single one of us at the same time. no matter how similar we may be, on the inside, we still all experience this forever alone in our minds. this just isn't something that can be shared, and anyone who tells you different is lying to themselves.
all we can do is fight off the madness, be it through the companionship and denial we find in the presence of another human being, or in embracing it, opening ourselves to the pain, emptyness, and curiously cleansing acceptance of nothing at all.
there are.
so many lives in each of us.
so many sides, and so many voices, and so many ideas.
there are conflicting voices in me right now, conflicting selves looking out at the world. i'm trying to do too much, and be too much, to too many people, and i can see where it all must come crashing down.
is it too late to salvage the things that might matter?
*iceweasel is listening to INXS "beautiful girl"*
