Sunday, October 12, 2008

I ate and read more of "Wicked"; I'm enjoying the book now, though it's still quite odd, and I'm not even half way done with it yet. I feel like it's taking me a long time to read it, though I started it less than a week ago. And though I'm enjoying it, I want to be finished with it so I can talk about it with Mollie & Sean. I watched the new episode of X-Men; this one introduced Gambit. This new X-Men show is a lot like the old one from the 90's, but it's a bit darker; I like it.

I feel as though I'm going slightly mad. I have the notion that exercise might keep me sane. That working at something to the point of exhaustion could somehow set me free. As if pushing myself physically could drive away thoughts of the world passing me by. This will sound odd, I'm sure, but when I hear stories that people tell, or look at photographs...I wish I'd been there, and it almost hurts that I haven't been. When nobody can be everywhere at once, or experience most of what the world has to offer. Sometimes Mollie tells me stories, and really opens up, and it turns out we've felt the same on certain things that I expected to be completely alone in...and that helps. But I don't get to talk to her as much as I'd like...and with so much weighing on me these days I feel horribly trapped...cornered...like the world is crashing down on me from every side. I try to cheer myself, and sometimes I can for a moment or an hour, but then the crushing sensation returns and I struggle to latch onto something that can save me from the darkness. Often times it's a book or a movie or music. Though sometimes I feel as though I'm wasting my time with those things, yet I can't imagine what more I should be doing. I used to bide my time with work, but even then I sometimes had the sensation that I was wasting my time... But what am I supposed to be doing? I thought going to school might take some of that feeling away, but now with my upcoming surgery that may or may not help me, I feel like that dream has been stolen away, leaving me feeling more vulnerable than I suspected I was. I don't know where all of this is pouring from, but I'm grateful that I have this blog to write it all down in.

Sean gave me a picture to include in my collage; a drawing he did a few years ago. The drawing itself is glued to another page; a page of his diary. I've read the page a couple of times and it comforts me that the lines were written by his hand; that the thoughts are his, and that I have them with me now. But it saddens me that I wasn't there for the writing of them. Or that years ago, when he lived very close to me in Ypsi, that we never had any contact. And it's not just him. The days of might have beens, like the days of wine and roses, are filled with regrets that I seldom take the time to contemplate. I feel like a missed opportunity.

   posted by Bald Jason at 12:45 PM
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