This Used To Be Me

21.08.2003 - 19.36
the haze

It doesn't even feel like I'm living anymore, just drifting in-between sleeping sessions, doing nothing until I do something. I've been waking up daily and taking the train to work, never fully becoming awake until I interact on a meaningful level, which usually isn't until noon or so. The office has slowed, there are only half of us here, which is strange, but then I've never been here so far after the summer conference ends.

It's like being with April; I'm conditioned to be more-or-less desireless, and yes I do mean sexually, which results in everything else ceasing to exist. Loneliness has never suited me well, and hopeless loneliness is downright dangerous, because the worse thing I could be is not thinking, which seems to currently be the case.

That's a lie; I am thinking, quite a lot, but nothing is resonating, nothing is coming to the forefront and saying "HERE I AM." The falling in love is there, but it's been boiling for some time now (as I now realize) and, thus, sits in the back burner. The politics are there, but are so much a part of me that they just sit there too.

I need to be engaged, I need to be interacted with. This sideline-observation of life needs to stop.

Goddammit, it WILL fucking stop.

then - soon

25.09.2003-Epilogue.

01.09.2003-

30.08.2003-Exeunt, the Moor.

28.08.2003-why?

27.08.2003-Last night, and august in general.