2002-07-19 | 9:40 p.m.
bad management

I tend to shoo away realisations when they're on the verge of presenting themselves to me politely. Consequently, we don't share a very good relationship. These days they just punch my face and send me reeling towards an icy floor. It happened again in the early hours of the morning today. I lay in bed,glassy-eyed,silently wondering if anything would ever be the same again. I cursed myself over and over on a scrap of paper, the back of an old receipt. That's when it hit me - literally and otherwise - that probably the easiest way to exacerbate the situation was to discuss it with people. I don't need the sympathy. I don't need big eyes staring at me,glistening with tears. I just need for it all to go away.

From the time I was a little girl, the intangibility of memories always depressed me. I never thought that someday I would plead to an ambiguous force to take away from me the distinct smell,taste,sound,feeling,sight of a memory. But it never will go away. Not with stabbing tears nor candid discussions. This is something I have to live with for the rest of my life, whether I like it or not. I can't run away from myself. I can't run away from others either. Sleep is my biggest enemy most nights for he forces me back into a yellow and black cab on a busy June morning. Even though I manage to escape, the eventual defeat is his. I try my best to stay away from him most nights but not once have I succeeded. He hunts me down, pins my hand behind my back and pushes me to a realm I wish I didn't have access to.

There's no way I would ever date a guy unless he knew. But then again, if he did know, why would he want to date me? So I remain single for the rest of my life,or well,until I get over this. Damn Catch-22.

deja vu? | jamais vu?