I've decided that now is as good a time as any to start a web diary.
Why is falling to sleep so hard? It's been getting worse now. Why?
I mean, besides the tech. age.
When I can activate instant REM sleep?
Why is it easy for most people accept everything you know as reality?
I will always fail to do so.
If certain people can never tell the truth,
how do they find reality?
Oh, I am not sleeping until I get to Newton tomorrow night. hmm, 30+ hours of being awake...
Hmm, I think I know what plagues me. Besides having to sort out the mess of being in lower Manhattan at a bus stop until morning--tomorrow, I will again see Celeaste, and her friend, Jasmine. We will get high, eat Thanksgiving dinner, get drunk, listen to music, get high, walk around, get drunk, confess--hmm. There are a few things that will be left to ambiguity:
my feelings for Celeaste, her feelings for me, our feelings to each other, feelings.
Huh. I kind of realized how emotion is the certain ambiguous factor here. Hah!
Anyway, there are all sorts of gushy feelings being felt but I really don't think I have any right to feel them. I mean, the girl is clearly not good for me. If she was, well I probably wouldn't be here, would I? I would be somewhere else with her. Gone from the world.
Or I would be asleep.
Or I would have never wrote a single, or one hundred, love poems for her.
Speaking of which, is pain and suffering, triumph and obsession,
can love heals these; is it enough to live for?
If so, when and how? Slowly? Sweetly?
Is love like fermenting wine, inebriating?
Unfortunately, I cannot say.
Surely I could be worse off:
still living at home, starving, uneducated, racial minority,
unsuccessful American, all those negative things.
But here I am, infatuated with this average girl,
ready to give an arm and a leg, when she won't even give me an ear.
not Van Gogh-style but
has she ever heard how much I have said I love her, in so many different ways,
so many different times?
She sat silent. She had the cold shoulder. I couldn't bring myself to facing her; she didn't say it back, and she knew what that meant, and she knew I did too.
It did not mean anything to her. Or maybe it was ambiguous.
Same difference, I guess.
That's what we've shared. That's why she was so unsure.
That's why I am unsure now.
infatuation is certain and Life is ambiguous.
Life is full of tiles like a game,
and I love on certainty.
Still, I am afraid to fully believe she is infatuation; I pray she is Love.
Sometimes, I feel I cannot convince myself anymore. It is a losing battle.
Like the existential moments I did not believe in God,
the sheer lows, painful as being, have died.
I am ready to face any truth, in any moment.
I know these next few days will fly like geese through a storm--
I want to enjoy them,
ambiguity and all,
before I come back to the end of this first semester,
And certain disappointment with my current scholastic endeavours.
I just hope stupidity doesn't strike me in the next three days.