subject: was that you passing me by?
time: 12:59pm
music: standing still - jewel
mood: on the phone.

i am laughing and crying along with morrie schwartz. reading albom's 'tuesdays with morrie' has only ardent my desire to be self-actualised. only making me want to be a matyr more. i want to no longer be the cause of grief or anguish, heartache nor heartbreak. instead, i want to only be the embodiment of .. and nothing more.

the transience of todays hang with an incomprehensible weight. i can do nothing more but let the loss come my way. this way, i can lie and tell myself how it will mean nothing to me, and stand by it, a tear at the heartstrings, parachute gravity, gravity freefall, freefall repetition, ad infinitum.

it would be an understatement to decree the world a giant misdiagnosis. unconditionally, i think i'd rather much prefer it this way. this way, for me at least, it won't be as disappointing. but how selfish of me! "communication is vital" but the words off my tongue are too few, too fragmented to be heard coherently. and even if i were to speak the truth, articulately and most clearly, the misinterpretation would be too much to bear, in so much that i'd surrender and eventually lose all hope in this thing called love and human connection.

loneliness is comforting but contemptous at times. "just brush it off", they'll tell me, yet it just seems to stain; born in a crevice. infectious & spreading. they forget it in me. i'm not an ordinary person.