elbib doownosiop eht dna yessirrom

sitting on my couch this morning, i reach the end of the poisonwood bible, and cry. and cry and cry, for so many things. the skies are again grey, like the taste in my belly. like the dried, windswept bones of ruth may and nathan, given over to the african soil. last night i struggled to sleep. goddammit. walked down the street to the theatre and watched winged migration, which contained some of the most beautiful filmed images i have ever seen. a bit long winded, but gorgeous nonetheless. walked home, and lay in bed awake for hours. i have finally concluded, that my insomnia seems to increase in direct proportion to the excessive amount of time i spend alone. perhaps i need to learn how to better silence my rambling mind in its solitude. i so often feel as though i am destined to walk this earth with none other than myself, which frightens me, and saddens me, but gives me strength at the same time. not exactly loneliness, for that is present as well, but an entirely different emotion. no, this is something deeper, that cuts into the flesh of my history. perhaps that sick young boy has never really left, and never will. during that small percentage of my life where i've shared my bed with another, the insomnia has been silent. afraid maybe, of interrupting two bodies intertwined. this morning, i listen to the breathy, mysterious, voice of morrissey. grey skies, wet eyes, and morrissey...oh how miserable he can seem~

"i am a poor, freezing cold, soul so far from where i intended to go. scavenging through life's very constant lows, so far from where i'm determined to go"

Posted by jeff at May 30, 2003 10:29 AM

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