The Journal of Someone who Squandered away Years but wishes to redeem them in the present |
Work was fine. There really wasn't much to it. A note that Jean gave me from the first time we met, when we parted from that time. Maybe I'll describe it some time, but right now, I'm falling into a deep sadness, and I don't want to. I don't mind being alone, I swear to god. I mind being without my love. I am haunted by the apparitions of dreams cut from the vine of the future I took for granted. I see the hundreds of laughing evenings she and I would have, and I push out my lips reaching for the kisses that will never reach me. I write to her letters in my mind that I know I cannot send, and I take her gently to bed to feel my passion, but I always wake up alone. She is dead, and I am dying, and I'm masochist enough to welcome it. Kill me god, because I have no connection to this rock, and the cares that used to define me have withered into ash that now sits on a table in my family room. Life ends with pain and regret, and we spend our lives in denial of that bitter disappointment that awaits us, and I wonder who in heavan thinks its funny, because I swear I hear someone laughing. If god is all things, then tonight god is pain. If god is not all things, then he is nothing, and there is no purpose to any of this absurd thing called life. Goodnight. It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn |