maze of memories
2003-10-03 || 10:58 p.m.

I don't feel good. I feel really sad. Really stupid. I hate feeling like this. I want to write things. I want to write things that are beautiful but I feel totally exhausted. I don't understand anything at all. I don't understand where all the stupid things in my head come from. Where all the memories that aren't memories come from. I don't understand why I feel like some things are just outside my grasp. I don't understand why I can't make sense of anything. Why it feels like there are pieces to a puzzle but I can't even find the pieces to begin to put them together.

Sometimes I wonder if all these things I think are just me trying to make sense of the many aspects of myself.

But really I would hate that to be so. I want there to be mystery. I want there to be things revealed one day. I want to think that when I said 'don't help me, even if I am really begging for it' that somewhere in some existence that happened. I want to believe that everything is happening all at once. I want to believe I am the whole universe and yet not a grain of sand all at the same time. I want to believe I am standing on the top of the sphere of time perceiving everything at once but only aware of a sliver.

And I want to believe that I will never cease to be. That somewhere the things I yearn for will all be mine. That somehow the strange emptiness can be made sense of.