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Tuesday, October 12, 2004

I Think Therefore I am Tortured

Preliminary warning... This is not edited, spell checked or obsessed over. Grammar phobes are warned -- Emotional guidance suggested:

There is a theme, isn't there? A prevailing genre for your life. The thing that just seems to pop up again and again. Some people think these things are guided by stars. STARS!

"What's your sign? Let me read your palm. All you need is a psychic friend."

Last night Jackass says to me "I'm sorry." This is lovely. But does he even have an idea, a thought in mind, a comprehension of what he is sorry for? So I ask "What are you sorry about, really?" He answered but I do not remember his words. I replaced them with my own.

"Sorry for dragging me back into this only to kick me out again?"
How much of this am I supposed to be able to take?
First off, let me just tell you that I am not certain any more where reality begins and this insanity ends. I feel, and this is nutty I am sure, but I feel like I have to chose between wide open raw "kick me while I'm vulnerable"-ness and walled off safe but forever alone-ness. Is that rational? NOPE.
But my goodness. That's how it appears to me. And the really tough part is denial. I do not know what to deny anymore. Should I deny this perception that I have now which seems so irrational to me? and if I deny it, what do I replace it with? Perhaps reality is irrational. But that's not rational. Look at the horrible circularness of my thinking.
"I think therefore I am tortured"
How can we ever deny that ultimate truth of that statement?
He said to me "You always seem to have the idea that this is so easy for me. Like somehow I just decide and that's it. Well, I do just decide and that's it. That's how I am, what I say. But you know that's now how I really feel."
me; "I don't get why you say things that aren't what you really feel."
him, pissed; "Why do you think I say things that aren't what I really feel?'
me HOLY CRAP!; "That's what you just now said."
He doesn't want to engage in code communication any more. I'm happy about that cause I don't want to either. I need to be in reality. Yet, he totally coded me yesterday. and got pissed that I did not de-code. Now I'm dizzy. Are we code? are we not code? WHAT THE HELL ARE WE?
What the HELL are we?
That is the question, isn't it? We're friends again. He wants to stop the improper stuff but keep all the rest. He wants to have his cake and eat it too. I feel so incidental.


Blogger -Evolved_Classic said...


1:59 PM  

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