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Document In Madness Still insane. |
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| Tempting apples | |
| Dec. 01, 2002 ] 2:53 AM | |
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Tired. Too tired. Tracing pictures in mental sand. Marshmallow Man is awfully quiet right now on ICQ after I finally told him that I neglected to mention the ex-boyfriend when I was bitching about my love-life. How did that happen? Isn't the Capt the focus, or rather the most recent eye of the storm? Nah. The new boyfriend, and I use the term loosely, has replaced him, in more ways than one it seems. I sort of regret the whole relationship right now. I think I might break it off. Marshmallow Man is right. I still don't know what I want in life. I'm confused. I ate the fruit and now I have lost my ignorance, and with it, peace of mind. Love? Such a paltry thing. I love my friends. I love my parents. I love my sister. But now I can't quantify love for someone beyond my scope of understanding. Such an odd turn of phrase. Freudian slips. I wonder if I will read this another time and ponder about the ramifications of what I said. Take it apart to analyse what I really mean, or should mean. Or should know. I read my older entries. And reading between the lines of what I wrote, I see the cues I left for myself to remember other events not recorded for posterity on the internet. A safeguard for myself, a key that can only be unlocked by one person. Me.
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