2002-12-30 : 4:42 p.m.
I choose the latter... to search no more.

Listening to: (actually I�m watching The Shining...)

This feeling of dejection... is tiresome...

I�m tired.

To only be free and void of such a thing...
I feel human... I feel lonesome...
And yet I am probably anything but alone...

Yes to be free... of envy... envy of what one believes, is the happiness and tranquility of someone else...

Sometimes... someone you may not even know.

I�m tired of it... and I want to be free.

As amazing and gifted the wake of any kind of bereavement may be...

I am tired of it...

And I just want to be free from it...

And nothing can be worse than the guilt that comes with being aware of so much more that surrounds...

The grief felt by the human experience oceans and moons away... experiences far more important and grander than the relative scope of my skull entrapped mind...

And as much as I force the shift of focus from me to the oceans that vary... I still can�t be free of the heavy weight on my chest that reminds me of the envy I feel...

Envy of those whom I may not even know... cannot even see... whom hold the attention of things and people... I desperately try to convince myself...

That I do not want.

And I want to be free...

And consequently... I may then- actually believe... the words... that tell me I�m beautiful...

Oh... so much that I could achieve and do... for the things and ideas that do matter...

If I could just be free...

Be truly independent of needs...

The need to be loved... to be touched... to be liked...

Exclusively...

To one... by one... for I... as the One...

Can you imagine that freedom...? The notions that would beget...?

For one... I could trust...
in a way I have never experienced...
I would believe... and most importantly I would understand... without waver...

That I am beautiful.

But words are never just for just one, are they? Call me exquisite... Tell me of my face, my smell... your affliction and desire... for my skin... and taste of my inner thighs...

And I will smile for your amusement...

And quietly wish I could die... inside.

Because the phrases the words are not exclusive, are they?
And they will never be, will they?

And I want to be free...

So I could be comfortable and independent from the need, I seem to inevitably crave from you...
Then I could save someone... feed someone... clothe a child... whom without choice has been brought into a world... without choice... to feel hunger and famine in ways that bring me to my knees...
Because it makes no sense to me...

I could be free... and not be loitering.... fumbling from city to city... in search of the air that would make me feel complete...

But the truth is... the nomad resides and propels itself, from within my heart... my soul... that searches for a companion... that I could finally believe.

For then, sincerity in the words and truth... would no longer be diametrically opposing views...

But it will never be... And I want to be free...

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* - 2007-07-05
--------------------- - 2006-05-30
hello, goodbye - 2006-05-24
Pinky burglar - 2006-03-09
So let's go... - 2006-02-24