Yeah, so I went a while without writing again...but part of that has been travel, and then some pseudo-down time, and then class. Classes start so early here! It's hard to believe that I've already had three days of classes. Oh, well.

So, for Christmas I gave T a trip to DC for New Year's and Montréal afterward, and she gave me a little bit of her bitterness. I rarely saw her over break, and then she informed me on New Year's that she wished she hadn't come with me at all, and would have gone back, if her luggage hadn't been en route to New York. That didn't particularly help...

And I wanted to take her to see Dancer in the Dark, but we ended up missing it for a couple of reasons. We did go to see Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, which I had also seen before--it's also a wonderful movie. But it was so hard going to see that with her, with its rather lofty themes of long-lasting love that can withstand all, and I feel far too many parallels with the characters, or maybe I'm just stretching to make the parallels. I don't know. I just know that it wasn't really a great idea to go see it with her. We ended up having the strangest pseudoargument afterwards. Of course, we weren't supposed to be arguing in the first place, because we're not dating...but it was just this really weird misunderstanding. And I was left with a very strong feeling of discovering something that I hadn't previously understood, when we were talking about how we react to misunderstandings and the like. And that just saddened me more, knowing that misunderstandings can't really be resolved with the hope of being able to love each other better, but they just sort of end.

And she left an index card leaning against my computer that says, "Missing you..."

And I just wonder, why did she do that? What was she trying to accomplish? To cheer me up, somehow? I really have no clue. I can't get myself to move it, though, so it'll just stay there, looking at me...but I don't really think she misses me. Everything she does tells me she doesn't, and it doesn't particularly matter, anyway. I don't especially want her to miss me. She told me once that the pain of missing me gives her yet another reason to banish me from her life more completely...But, really, like I said, I don't particularly want her to miss me. In some sense, I suppose it would be nice. If her memories of me were fond ones, if she thought and dreamed of me once in a while. But in the end, it doesn't particularly affect me. She can make herself not miss me, and she will, I'm sure. And that won't kill me...

I've sort of been devising more of my great theory of relationships...and it seems to me, from my infinitesimally insignificant observations, that love pops up so easily in random places, at random strengths. I doubt that there's any way to say one love is relatively stronger than another with all that much significance. I feel love for so many people, in so many different ways, that it seems so silly to use one word to describe it all. Makes me think of something I read somewhere a long time ago, that the Inuits or the Eskimos or some northern aboriginal tribe has, like, over a hundred different terms for snow. And here we are, with only one term, trying to describe all snow. If I tried to get one of them to just call it snow, I'm sure he'd point out to me all the ways that this snow is unique, and why it just won't do to call it merely snow. Maybe love is the same, and everybody and every relationship is so unique, it seems so silly to try for some great paradigm of "love", when not only do we have no idea what it really is, but it could vary so much, anyway...

And I was going somewhere with this at some point...trying to recover whatever direction I had...

Oh, right. So, to me it seems what really sets one love apart isn't so much what I tend to consider love itself, but what allows two people to take all of that and go to something truly magical is the amazing comfort with which they are able to interact, not to get perturbed at each other's idiosyncrasies, and so much more...to feel forever comfortable in each other's arms, and so much more. And maybe this is another attempt to wrap up far too much into one bundle, but I think it's all related. And even given all my admitted naivety, this seems to be so unique. Marriages begin without out it, but I can't see them lasting all that long. I've never known anyone who shared such a relationship with anyone. My parents didn't, and even in their new marriages, well, neither of them is in the type of relationship I would ever want. At least I can see that. And I'm losing coherency once again.

I haven't lost that. I felt it, and never realized how unique and precious it was to me, but now I can see at least a bit more...and I'm not going to lose that. I know the love won't go away, but more than that, what's so inherent in everything I do and say to T is that there's something so much more, some way our personalities and lives fit together that won't change even as we do. It's part of what scares me so much about trying for any sort of relationship more than friendship any time soon--knowing that I'll forever be comparing everyone to T, and nobody can compare to her in my heart. And I'm just back to sounding lovesick. Hmmm...

On a slightly different note, I went to see a movie on Thursday night--Requiem for a Dream. It was the most depressing movie I've seen in some time. It was mostly about four people, this guy, his good friend, his girlfriend, and his mother. And they all develop these wonderful escapist dreams, dreams of rising above the past, of being financially independent, and happy, and beautiful...and all of the idealism and hope is lost in the escapism, until they ultimately lose everything...

So, that was depressing. But then last night, I went to see A Hard Day's Night, which was not depressing. It was fun. I enjoyed it--the Beatles, or whatever they were trying for, were quite carefree and playful and happy and it was all just a rather fun movie. I'm liking this repertory theatre I found--it's very cheap. I just need to stop seeing depressing films...

The Beatles are sort of a funny group, though. They seem so vaunted in sort of the common mythology, but from what I've gathered, they were just a basic boy band that happened to hit it big. Sure, they could sing, and write pretty decent songs, and they were great experimentalists at times, but at their base, they were just a bunch of teen idols. There were certainly much more talented musicians around, but nobody hit it as big, certainly. It's all rather interesting.

Okay, and I'm getting progressively even less coherent, so I should go to sleep now...


Friends of mine found this website, but won't bother to tell me. It's rather weird. Not that I particularly mind, just that it would be nice if they told me. I know because my site statistics tell me who visits, and what OS they use, and not many people in the real world use Linux, let alone connect from the exact IP addresses of people I know :-) So, ummm, yeah.

Let's see...today was another wasted day. I need to read Hegel. Just like I needed to read Hegel yesterday, and the day before...Oh, well. I'll do it tonight, presumably. Right now I'm feeling rather restless, but I'm not sure what to do about it. I think I'll go run around the city. That's always fun--and it's something I'll miss when I leave...but I do wish I had other people to run around with. That would be nice...but I can't think of anybody here who would be remotely as interested as I am in just walking around and looking at buildings and people and places. I'm so fascinated by the city, and parks, and neat houses, and neat people walking around...it's very different from NC, where the best place to people-watch is the mall. I really despise suburbia. Ick. And to suburbia I shall return soon...all the more reason to walk around as much as I can while I'm here.

T hasn't written to me in a while. Admittedly, I don't think I gave her all that much to respond to in my last e-mail. I was going to write again last night, but I ended up writing a new journal entry, instead. I'll write to her again tonight, and maybe she'll respond at some point. Maybe not. It's hard to get used to meaning so little to her...maybe it'll come to me, or something.

I was thinking today about how, in a lot of ways, we're at pretty similar stages in terms of wanting independence, not wanting to be in a really committed relationship right now, except that I don't have all the pain and bitterness that she has. I suppose it's a pretty significant difference. It's what takes her beyond wanting to be away from me to wanting to run in the opposite direction from me, I think. It's what makes it rather hard to understand where, exactly, she's coming from, because I can really understand just about everything but that. And I guess that's also what saddens me the most, since it's what I wish so much that I could help go away. And she spends a lot of energy letting me know that I can't.

I miss her...

There. I said it. I've been feeling it for a while...I feel it most when I'm sitting alone in my room, wanting just to have someone else sitting in here with me, doing work or reading or talking or eating or whatever. I dream of T, making dinner with me, or asleep on my bed while I finish whatever work I've put off until now. And I wish I could just leave it at missing her, but I don't think I really can. Instead, I always end up depressing myself or hating myself or worrying about why she doesn't really want to talk to me. And I just need to stop doing that.

My shingles are acting up again, or something. Well, the bumps have sort of reappeared. Shingles--the reoccurrence of chicken pox. It occurs along nerve endings, and it's incredibly painful...not seen in too often in people my age, but brought about by stress. Here I have on my shoulders the scars of the stress I went through last winter. I nearly killed myself with stress of T and work and my parents and the paper I hadn't written, to the point of making myself quite sick, with this and more. I never thought I would let anything get to me that much, but here are the scars to prove that yes, I did. And all of that could have been swept away, and replaced with new, but...no.

Dum de dum. I suppose I make it obvious what's on my mind. Oh, well. What else...I need to write thank-you notes for all my relatives. Oops. I should have done that before I left.

Over break I found in my room at my dad's house a book that I took from the university library, in this reading room they have where books line the shelves on the walls. And they're all for loan on the honor system. And while I haven't gotten around to returning it in several years, I will at some point. But it's called a "Treasury of Russian Verse," and it has my favorite poem, written by Alexey Tolstoy, translated very lyrically. I gave T a card with this poem in it, nearly three years ago, and after I read it again the other day I dreamed of reading it to her... I should go read Hegel now, but I think I'll copy it here, because I adore it, and it remains as valid as ever:

When I am plagued with cares, amid life's noisy clamor,
Bruised by a thought that beats insistent as a hammer
Upon my mind, at times this blots your image out;
But when I am alone, and day, with all its doubt
And dread and vexing noise subsides, then too grows quiet
The turmoil of false life that in my soul held riot;
My mind becomes transparent as a placid lake
Whose very depths my plunging gaze can lightly rake;
Then clearly in my thoughts, unruffled and unmoved,
Your images is reflected, desired and beloved,
And I can see the bottom where, a dazzling prize,
My love for you in all its wealth and beauty lies.

7/1/2001 continued...

So, I haven't gone to sleep...what is it, um, 1:30. I've spent a while looking around at hostels in Toronto and transportation to Toronto. My father suggested that I find a way to get there, while I'm up here, and I'm thinking that I may be able to. I could get there on a bus for $100 canadian, and I could get a dorm bed in a hostel for $100 for a full week. I wonder how much a one-week transit pass would cost. And then I would just have to feed myself, which I could probably do fairly cheaply. I could cook in the hostel...but then, I realize how lonely it would be to be in a wonderful, new city alone. I really need to find someone, anyone to drag along. But all the Canadians could go any time they wanted. Maybe I could find some random international student interested in this. Hmmm...I'll look into that. But now, to sleep! That is, if I can sleep...


I guess I haven't written for several days...it's been a surprisingly busy week. Weird. Today, my biology seminar finally met, and it scares the bejeesus out of me. Mostly graduate students, with some senior bio. majors tossed in, and little ol' me, the sophomore, in there, too. And it focuses on mammalian systems, about which I know very little. Which is scary, but in a way, I suppose it's good, since I could stand to learn quite a bit about mammalian genetics and cell biology. But it's going to be rather hard...and for some reason, as if to mock myself, I volunteered to present a paper next week. Well, I do have a whole week to prepare, so I shouldn't have any problems. I just have to get my butt in gear, which I haven't been able to do in a while.

And my econ class met yesterday for the first time, and the prof. seems infinitely better than the one from last term, at least in his ability to communicate. He does seem to fly through the material, though. This is a pattern for all my classes this semester, I think :-) That, and organic, and my philosophy class, which is interesting, but it's going to require a whole lot of effort. Oh, well. I will survive, and be stronger for it, at least in theory.

I talked to T the other night, and it was wonderful. Was that last night? Maybe the night before...I'm really not sure. I miss talking to her so much. But she had apparently read my last several journal entries, and took them as I presume people tend to, as if they accurately describe my overall mood all the time. Oftentimes an entry is just a snapshot of my mood and feelings and opinions. And I tend to write in my journal at times of extreme, and all the intermediate levels get somewhat marginalized. But I'm just and average of all the highs and lows and in-betweens, though maybe that's not immediately clear from reading this. I certainly don't know. But I read back a bit, and saw how bitter I was feeling, and I'm really not feeling that now. I haven't felt that for a while. T was stressing because she feels guilty for having put me through all the stress I've had in the past few years, and she has something of a point, indirectly, because if not for her, my life would have probably been significantly less stressful over the past three years. For that matter, it would have been significantly more boring, and significantly less of what I really want. I'm a drastically changed person because of her, and I realize that sometimes when I look back at myself as I was before I met her, and how I was two years ago, and a year ago, and now...

When we were first dating, she tried really hard to change me into something she wanted. I resisted vehemently. That got us next to nowhere, though when she was able to be gentler, she managed to make me open up...

Before I met her, I had only very rarely hugged anyone. My family isn't big on expressing emotion, mostly thanks to my father, who is an accountant by trade and by temperament, the most anal-retentive person I have ever met, and, really, a very unique character. One of the most prominent characteristics about my father, one that I hadn't really noticed until relatively recently, is just how unable he is to consider issues, situations, whatever from any situation but his own. I mean, I realize that this is hard for everyone, but it is next to impossible for my father. At least in his attitudes towards me, he seems wholly unable to grasp the concept that anyone might want something other than what he desires in life. Like when I was preparing to go to college, and he told me, entirely seriously, "I don't care what you major in, as long as it's not liberal arts." And I didn't really know how to respond to that. I had every intention of majoring in biology, but I wondered, what would he really say if I told him I was switching to something else? It was hard enough to get him to think of me not wanting to go into business in the first place. And maybe that's part of the reason why I'm so reluctant to give up my bio. major--because I know that he would blow up if I told him I was dropping it in favor of something as silly as urban planning, or something else in the social sciences.

But, to work back just a bit--I do believe I was saying that I had built somewhat of an emotional shell before I met her. For a wide variety of reasons--it was also as something of a defense. And she drew me out of that, certainly...over much time, and much anguish on her part, I know. But she did, and for that I am incredibly thankful...

And I think I'm going to have to cut this short, because I am quite tired. I haven't gotten 8 hours of sleep in so long, I forget how nice it can be. But I will continue this later...


So, I guess i didn't get back to writing like I had hoped to. Thursday night I went out to dinner with my French class at this "Tex-Mex" restaurant where we were basically forced to speak French. We ended up staying for a long time, though. It was a lot of fun, attempting to speak to each other in French and usually giving up and just speaking in English. But, we stayed there for several hours. The people in that class are just a lot of fun. And the food, of course, wasn' very authentic. But mon morceau du gateau du chocolat was quite good. And I wonder how I make the correct character for the a with the carat over it. I have no clue. Oh, well...But it was nice to spend that much time with other people. I haven't done that very often, certainly. I don't really have anyone to call up and say, "hey--let's do something, I don't care what..." And I wish I did. I miss having friends, I suppose, and I hadn't really realized that I don't have any up here. I managed not to notice at times last semester, what with everything I was dealing with, and the few friendships I made, I managed to ruin soon after. And I somehow didn't really let it hit me until now. Of course, I don't really know what I would do to meet people. It worked out back at my home university, between classes and the singing groups I was in and the people who lived down the hall from me. But here, I've managed to keep so busy doing things that aren't all that social, and my classes aren't really freshman classes, so most other people in them aren't feeling so alone. Of course, I'll only be here for less than four more months, anyway. What's four months, right? It seems like an awfully long time to spend as alone as I am right now. Sigh.

And I just looked at the card T left for me again. I catch myself saying to it, "I miss you, too..."

I e-mailed her last night, late, just before I went to bed, and told her that if I didn't talk to her today I was pretty much going to have to send her an e-mail. I stockpile all sorts of thoughts that I would share with her if I could, and now I feel like I've reached the point where I need to at least write to her or something. I don't know. But, oh, I just remembered two things. First, she has a four-day weekend, so I doubt that she's incredibly busy, but I don't know. But the other thing is that her e-mail will be down for probably the next 18 hours. Sigh. Oh, well. Maybe I'll somehow talk to her, anyway. I'm sure she's doing fine...

I have a pretty large music collection--but, somehow, so much of it inspires such sad memories. Memories that used to wonderful...but no longer. And it ends up being so depressing to listen to music in my room, which I usually end up doing so often while cooking or cleaning or doing other stuff. And there's obviously quite a bit that I can avoid, but it's not just one song, or one artist...T occupied more than two years of my life, and she ended up being linked to so much of what I did and heard and experienced for all that time. I listen to my Chicago CDs, and remember listening to them as I drove home after spending time with her...and just about every album I have has one or two songs that I link to her for some reason or another. At times I end up hitting fast forward a lot, and at other times I just let them all play. Those are usually the times that I end up crying...

I read what I write sometimes and feel like I can anticipate what T would say if she read it. She would link together all of what I've written, and assume that missing her and being lonely are two sides of the same coin, and, well, they're not. I feel lonely, and so I want to go out and make new and better friends. I miss her, and there isn't really anything much I can do about that. But I'm not just trying to get back to where I was when I wasn't so lonely, or anything. I don't miss times in the past, and I don't wish for any sort of committed relationship at this point. But--and this is something that I happened to think of today, and it's probably stupid to mention, but oh, well--I haven't remotely lost the reasons I had in the first place for proposing to her so long ago. What was that...April, almost 9 months ago. Wow. And I don't think I've mentioned that here before. It's like it's something that I can look back on, and see why I shouldn't have, why that wasn't at all the best thing to do at the time. But it's not anywhere near the top of the list of things that should have been done better, because at root I knew exactly why I did it, and that hasn't at all changed. Sure, all sorts of circumstances and other events were totally wrong, but I have never, and still can't, deny wanting to spend the rest of my life with her. And that's what makes people look at me like I'm a total fool, someone who is so stupidly stubborn, or misled, or confused, or something. And I want to scream that that's just not it, that nobody understands...and then I just sound like a total fool. I am, I suppose. There are times when I look at myself, and I want so much to be different, to run screaming from anything and everything that has happened the past year. It's so preposterous, though, really--"Self, be different. Now."

I've done that. I've run, and not looked back...for a few weeks. Maybe I even lasted a month once. And yes, I learned from that. It was stupid even to try. And maybe how I feel or act or whatever can be changed, but nothing's going to happen quickly or dramatically. And regardless of how much I try to avoid it, and smile, and work, and keep myself busy, I can still see at the bottom of my thoughts...and it comes up so easily, as if to remind me that it's not at all buried.

And it scares the heck out of me. I have no way of dealing with this. It's not just love, which I could probably tuck away somehow, with the promise that I could find that elsewhere, or something along those lines--it's the realization that despite all this crap, despite all of my stupidity, despite tough times, more tough times to come; despite everything, if she ever wants me back, she has my heart. She may have ultimately turned me down when I proposed, but my side of the offer never went away, and hasn't...

I never hear of anyone having a marriage proposal turned down. How ultimately depressing that would be. All the more reason to make totally sure, because what could be worse than to have something so huge shot down?

And I can speak so lightly of commitment and marriage and longlasting love, not because they mean so little to me, but because I suppose I've become comfortable, somehow, with the weight of everything that I can't rid myself of. I've tested and retested many times over myself, and T, and what I think, and what I feel, and...here I am. And it's all I can do to avoid screaming and crying, because this is all so ridiculously futile right now. T seems to use that as something of an excuse to trivialize it all, but I can't do that--and I wish I could! I wish I could make all of this mean less to me. A friend of mine is convinced that I'm just being obsessive and refusing to move on. But all I can respond with is that this isn't at all something that I'm at all working to keep up. And I'm just repeating myself, aren't I? I wish more than anyone that I could be something I'm not. I just...can't.

And I'm just whining again. I need to stop this. I think I'm going to walk around the city for awhile and try to get into a better mood. Sitting in my apartment certainly isn't helping.

Yeah, so I'm back again. I went out walking, and it was nice. Such a pretty night, in such a beautiful city. And then I came back, and ended up talking online to a guy that I vaguely know from my university, about T and other such stuff. He was quite annoyed for mentioning that I was going to e-mail her--he was rather emphatic that I shouldn't be going out of my way to communicate with her. And he's probably right. I'm just setting myself up to be a doormat, and if I didn't do that in the first place, she wouldn't trample on me. I just keep implicitly expecting her to want to communicate with me like we're back together. That's just not going to happen now. Duh. And so, yeah, I can see the long term view--the problem is just acting in the long term, not the short term. And I don't do nearly as well at that...But, anyway. I'm working on it. And to bed I go...


I'm glad I talked to him last night--I think he told me just what I needed to hear. Whether I'm trying or not, I'm torturing myself with all of this. I need to do my best not to get hung up on missing to T, or talking to her, or anything, really. I need to be a T-less me again...for one thing, it's the only way I could ever have her back again. But, anyway. Onward I go...

So much work to do today...I just need to get motivated, darnit, and I haven't. For far too long. I have a presentation to do, and work for three other classes, and I've done next to nothing all weekend. And I need fruit to eat, because I've had, like, two pieces of fruit in the last week. And I have no money at all. My father told me he'd put money in my US account, but he never did. So I was able to cover December rent with Christmas money, but I can't cover January rent, let along groceries, until I get the money from him. And my paychecks are delayed because I forgot to turn in my timesheet before I left for break. Doh. And I'm just whining again, like usual. So I'll stop.

It's a beautiful day out. I think I'll go walk around, and get some fruit and milk and go work on my presentation in the bio library. That sounds like a plan...


What an awful day. I woke up feeling alternately like my head was going to explode and I was going to throw up, so I skipped my first two classes. Then I went to the final one, came back, and started feeling crappy again. Then I talked to T online for about half an hour, and had this incredibly stilted conversation which mainly consisted of her avoiding telling me what she did over the weekend, then eventually telling me. I had already assumed, and I was pretty much right, and I probably could have taken that. But on top of that, she was trying to carry on two conversations at once, beating around the bush and in one-minute intervals, and I was already feeling rotten. So I didn't take it well. I ended up just saying I'd much rather come back later, which she had never considered suggesting, I guess, although she was noncommittal--something along the lines of, maybe I'll message you, or maybe you'll message me, or maybe not, or whatever. Everything she says or does to me seems to prove merely to remind me of how little I mean to her. She denies this constantly, and says I'm overreacting. Maybe I am. I'm probably too biased to see. But I just keep feeling like she won't even treat me with the respect I would expect of a good friend, and yet she keeps reminding me how much she wants to be able to have me as a good friend. Maybe I expect more from that than she does--I would appreciate a dedicated conversation, or at least an offer of a dedicated conversation later, and if you don't want it, then tell me. Stop frickin' stringing me along, for God's sake. Sure, she never tries to do that, but that's what she accomplishes, and I hate that I set myself up to feel that way.

And this is what I keep getting left with--the feeling that I'm setting myself up to let her string me along. And I said something about how I wish I didn't worry so much about that, but it came out all wrong, and she ended up using that to accuse me of being emotionally flighty. And yeah, at that I very nearly laughed, and would have if I wasn't in such a heavy mood--the girl who has reminded me of her determination to be more immature than she's been since I met her is warning me not to be emotionally flighty. Hmmm. She didn't seem to see any irony there, though...and I just don't get it. After all I've said, she takes one statement to mean that I can just compartmentalize something and go off and do something destructive. How can she think that? I just don't understand...

And so this whole thing just degenerated until we were both pretty pissed and upset. And it was all a big misunderstanding, it seems. I just wish that she could treat me with some requisite amount of respect that she keeps promising me, or let me know that she's really not going to give me that. I have a hard time treating any of my friends the way she's treating me...is this just me, or something? Does she just see her actions in a totally different light? I just don't understand.

And yes, it hurts like hell when she tells me some guy flew her to Dallas to spend the weekend with him. I completely wish I could make that hurt go away, but it's just not going to happen. I could attempt to mask it with something else, but that's basically what she's doing. And I've already gone over why I can't just flip some switch and make her mean nothing more than a friend. I really wish I could somehow approximate that, and she keeps telling me that's what needs to happen, but I'm not entirely sure that that would make everything all peachy. As I said before, while I don't expect to be treated like her best friend, I'd at least like to be treated well enough for her to consider my feelings enough to want to talk to me one on one. And a good dose of honesty would be rather useful. If she doesn't want to talk to me, I'd really like to know.

I do wish I could stop missing her. It's a preposterous wish, one that maybe I can only wish because I know it won't happen. Maybe I shouldn't even say that, because then she takes it to mean a lot more than that. And in the end, she's pissed at me for not managing to be merely her friend, and I was upset in the first place because I don't think she's trying all that hard to treat me as the friend she keeps saying she wants. But I don't know. I suppose I could attempt to do what she's doing. Maybe I need to go out on lots of dates and find someone to share my bed. Maybe not. None of that is going to change all my feelings and thoughts and whatever, and these are the problems now, and have been for a while. It all feels so unbalanced, and the end all I can really say is that it pretty much sucks to be in this situation. Stupid love.

And I'm running out of anything to say, and I have so much work to do on my presentation, and I haven't done anything with it in quite some time. And I'm tired, and feeling sick again, and I have a 9:30. Dammit. I think that I should run around somewhere and scream, repeatedly. That's about how I feel at the moment. Sigh. Okay. Time to stop avoiding work.


To T:

Last night was tough. It reminded me how difficult things can get, for such ridiulously stupid reasons. But, here--here's what I want, and you have to believe me on this. I want you to go do whatever you need to do, or want to do, or feel like doing. Don't feel responsible for me, or guilty about any effect on me, or anything like that. Live for yourself--or as my philosophy prof put it this morning, in the words of Feuerbach, I believe--"Become who you are." I would love to be your friend; I would love to be able to talk about scientific research or life or eat chocolate and knit late into the night. I would just like for you to be able to decide what you want me to be. For too long, I think, our own ideas of what the other wants or intends to be haven't been meeting very well, and to me, that's more the problem than any other difficulty on my part or yours. So, let's figure that out, and go from there, and go on living, hopefully with no regrets...or as few as can be humanly possible. I think we're both smart enough not to be "emotionally flighty" or attempt to compartmentalize some set of feelings we don't feel like dealing with. Been there, done that...it was disastrous. I'm not going to do it again. I hope you can learn something from my mistakes.

There's my state now. I'm not going away...I will change, and I don't know how. But I'll always be willing to talk to you, about anything you want to talk about. Really. I'm not quite to that state yet, but I will be at some point.

Was what we had real? Could our love truly withstand anything, like we thought it could? We'll see...if nothing else, this will all be an educational experience. I'm as curious as anyone to find out how this all turns out, but then I keep pushing myself just to be patient. Everything will resolve itself somehow. In the meantime...well, I've told you how I am right now. I can't think of anything more to say, so I think I'll stop writing


Wow. Is it 2:15 already? Man. I need to change this whole waking-up-in-the-PM thing. But I couldn't really sleep last night, and ended up sleeping probably around 4 AM. Maybe it would have helped to have woken up early, so I might have been able to change that a bit tonight. Oh, well.

I just listened to the title track off of the upcoming album from one of my favorite bands, Train. The realaudio is here, at least for the time being, for anyone interested. I used to listen to the Train album, and it would remind me of the sorrow and stupidity and sweetness of everything with T--but I didn't really expect this song to be as relevant as it was. Oh, well. I'm looking forward to that album, but it won't be out for another two months.

Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?
Did you finally get a chance to dance along the light of day, and head back to the Milky Way?
And tell me, did you sail across the sun?
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded, and that heaven is overrated?
Tell me, did Venus blow your mind--
was it everything you wanted to find?
...and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

Okay, enough of that. I was thinking the other day that I really need to think of something witty to write, so they can have something decent to put on the Quotes page. But I'm just not thinking of anything witty at the moment. I'm working on it, though!

I went to a bar last night, and it was a very strange experience--I mean, I often find people-watching infinitely interesting, but the problem was that even people-watching there was ultimately rather depressing. I did get in some amusing discussions, like an argument with someone about why humans can't merely evolve shorter pinkies because they don't need them. That was somehow relevant to something, I think :-)

Moving on...oooh, today is the day to celebrate undemocracy! Wheee! Wish I could go to DC and hold up a sign--but I'm not sure what it would say. I'm thinking something along the lines of "Bring Dignitude back to the White House." Admittedly, that was the idea of a friend of mine, but it amuses me.

I think I'll rather miss Clinton. He really was quite a competent president, if an idiot at times. Everybody should be able to relate to his idiocies, it seems to me, but not everyone can relate to his abilities. So maybe therein lies the problem. They're not really annoyed because he was just as stupid as everyone else, but because he was just better than them at doing other things while being stupid. I was watching a special that C-SPAN ran over Christmas break, of all of the White House Press Dinners held over the Clinton years. These basically consist of a couple of introductions, and then an invited comedian making fun of most of the people in the room, and then the president doing his own standup. Or maybe the president came before the comedian. I'm not sure. These are apparently broadcast on C-SPAN when they happen, bringing about many jokes from the comedians about doubling viewership to 2 and the like. Anywho, Al Franken was absolutely hilarious. One of his big jokes was, and I'm forgetting the exact joke, so i'll improvise here--all of the people who noticeably were not in favor of impeaching Clinton. Newt Gingrich's first wife, Newt Gingrich's second wife, Newt Gingrich's third wife--and all the other Republican leaders were also remarried at this point. Newt somehow didn't find this all that amusing. Poor guy.

These dinners were made rather famous when Don Imus showed up and proceeded to criticize every single person in Washington. It wasn't remotely funny. It was just stupid. There are plenty of ways to criticize just about everyone and manage to make it amusing--but no, he didn't even try. It was quite painful to hear.

Well, I think that's my dose of politics for the day. Dum de dum...what next? I think I should probably go do work :-) Yea, work! Gooo, work!


Wow, it's been such a long time since I last wrote. I've been so busy...and I still am, just doing a good job of ignoring it all. But so much to do...oh, well.

I'm trying to think what I've been doing all week. Well, working, avoiding work, and that's about it. Man. Oh, I did thoroughly clean my apartment. I spent a long time on that. This place was such a dump, well, I was determined to clean it up. And I did! Woohoo! And that proved to be an excellent way to avoid working on stuff for my bio seminar. And French. And organic. And reading for philosophy. And on and on...but! I still have time today. I can still accomplish, well, something, hopefully. Let's see...work, family's doing okay, T is back to ignoring me, Montréal is cold but so pretty...nothing at all is really new.

I'm a complete idiot. I should have just left my old mail where it was, but for some reason I thought to clear out all the old crap, so then I ended up reading old, old stuff. And it just depresses me. I really shouldn't have done this. Sigh. Okay. I managed to shut that window.

I really have absolutely nothing to write about. I'm feeling, well, sort of blah at the moment. So I think I'll go read some Marx, and at least get something out of the way.


I'm in a blah mood again. Blah. I just want to go to sleep, but I can't, really. I feel alone and rather empty.

I hate this feeling. I hadn't had it for a while, but now it's back, and there's nothing I can do to make it go away. I want to sleep, but know that I can't. Even if I was tired, I couldn't get tired enough to get myself to stop thinking so that I could sleep. I only got maybe 6 hours of sleep last night, because I ended up working on my French journal until so late, and I was tired all day. But I just don't feel like I can sleep. I feel like I'm going to cry, and I haven't felt that in a long time...it's not T, or anyone or anything in particular, it's just this loneliness, this aching. And I can't explain it. Or maybe I can...I don't know...

This sort of arose when I was talking to a friend of mine, and we were talking about the past and relationships and difficulties thereof and so on...and I noted how much I miss feeling comfortable enough with a person to say anything on my mind and for that person to be able to tell me anything, and my friend agreed, and I kept thinking, why can't this be easy? Why can't I just tell you anything I think or feel or anything and you can do the same, and we can both agree to accept each for who we are, and feel some sort of connection that we'd otherwise lack--why can't this happen? Am I avoiding it, or are you avoiding it, or is it just not that easy? I have no clue. I've only felt it once in my life, so, well, maybe it is that rare...or maybe not. I just don't know.

So I write letters in my head, long, detailed letters addressed to whomever will listen, or anybody who might conceivably listen, about living and trying and loving and failing and hoping and succeeding...but for some reason I can't just write them to nobody. I need someone to listen, and I no longer have that. It's not that nobody cares--just that nobody really wants to hear. I got around that for a while by assuming that T cared as much as ever, but I can't really do that anymore, and besides, that only brought on more hurt, anyway. So I never send my letters anywhere, and I look across the room at my teddy bear, the only other set of eyes in my room, and I cry.

I'm back, because I of course couldn't sleep. My mood has changed somewhat, and I was having all these thoughts that I just wanted to write out since I had been trapping them in my head for far too long...

I held a hand the other day. It was fleeting, it wasn't real, it meant nothing to anyone, but it brought my world crashing down yet again. It was a silly non-event to have triggered anything, but somehow triggered a whole range of thoughts, remembering why I ever wanted what I wanted out of relationships in general, why it should sting at all to be single...

it's not that I need anything in particular, but I crave so much an island of stability in this crazy world I make for myself. I'm too unpredictable for myself oftentimes, but I just want, somewhere in there, a hand to hold and a voice to remind me that someone is listening and there for me through whatever I end up in. I don't intend to block out any new experiences, or people, or anything, but I don't need dating relationships with multiple people to obtain all that. I remember now why I was ever willing to commit myself as much as I did--I know that I will change, and I know that many people and events will have huge impacts on me. And that's what allows me to commit my heart, though perhaps not my future or my ideals or anything else, to someone in particular...

T tried to explain her drive to date lots of people to me once as an attempt to take on little bits of pieces of lots of people, rather than let herself be overly affected by one. But I realize how differently I see things. It's not about changing my life to fit someone else in, but about having someone else with which to experience everything in life. I live, and learn, and experience, and change my mind, and change my thoughts, and change my actions, not as a result of one person or lots of people, but as a result of all the experiences and thoughts I've had. It's like I wrote to her once, once when she was running away from me as fast as she could. I vaguely recall her response--it was something along the lines of, well, a while ago, that would have completely melted my heart, but right now, well, it means just about nothing. Sorry.

Anyway, I was writing about how much I wanted for us to be able to be ourselves, unique, free, individual, as erratic as we wished, joined together by love, but not limited by it. And that's what I dream of now, with whom I have no clue, but for some reason I can dream abstractly and as if it could happen some time, and I much prefer that to the way I was thinking earlier, though of course there's no basis for it. I wish I had something to look forward to, but all I have is my dreams, and they will have to do for now...

But since when has reality truly mattered? I would much, much rather find out later that my black and white portraits were never really true to their subjects than to find out that the shades of gray I used always understated the meaning of the picture...and there is something to be said for bold, broad strokes, for blind optimism and careless idealism, for the most unrealistic romanticism. Maybe nobody agrees with me, but that's never mattered before...

I am a lonely painter; I live in a box of paints--
I'm frightened by the devil, and I'm drawn to those ones that ain't...

That's Joni Mitchell, in case you're wondering, and I'm trying hard not to listen to that CD, because then I'd be up for at least another hour, and I really do need to sleep, and it may actually be possible now. Maybe not, but, well, I'll go see...

Shades of Gray