I'm recoiling from everything; nerves rubbed raw, all that I see and hear and sense when I close my eyes (I can still see my room and not hers around me) causes me to recoil painfully instinctively like a worm in bright light.
I need the company of people. All my things; everything I have just serves to spear me with bitter thoughts. Everything that I brought will me screams, "Go back! Remember those times! You should go and be with her!" and the things I didn't bring laugh derisively, "You can't go back! HA! We things of material life ground you here." All I have are the things gotten out there to wield as talismans against them, to hold them back.
I can't go back. But oh-my-god I want to go forward. Because that is the place where we can be together forever. They say that time flies when you are having fun, but there must be a special contravention on that rule for love. Because every moment with her [I'm crying now; bitter tears of sheer frustration and impatience] was magnified. The end came upon me so suddenly because I felt as if [I can't see], almost, that I'd always been out there. It was a golden time; frozen moments in Elysium. I didn't care if we fought, it made us stronger, and the main point was I was out there. The only thing I feared was that [wave two of tears and sobbing] she wouldn't want me there
; that I would be cast from the paradise of her.
More than once, the idea of just staying passed my mind. Fast food job, whatever. We'd be together.
But I'm going forward, not back. And yeah, I realize that the time did
go fast; I'd only just reserved the plane tickets [May 27th] and I was coming home. So we will be together, and it really won't
be that long. And once we are, the moments with her will [wave three; yeah, sounded like I was getting optimistic, right? Did you forget I'm depressive?] be so overwhelming again, the way they were when I was there...
Thank you, words. Thank you for not deserting me; for, in fact, coming to me to help as I tragically failed to sleep [at the cost of some grammar]. I've been trying to sleep sideways on a knife-edge [sobbing now, thank you to Alison for keeping me company. And Hum.
"we can see far to the other side
it's you and i forever, we don't have to hide
if we ignore the signals that mission control will send
it's one big ship ride anyway, this hell will never end
we gaze out on what they left of the stars
all we see now we can take as ours
you two've got just moments left to give
come back now and we will let you live
stay inside our blue protective eye
we won't let them take you, we won't let you die"
Vedkar: My memories of SF are so strong and so happy
Vedkar: It's about what's keeping me going now
Vedkar: It really was the best day ever
Vedkar: I really can't remember being happy for a long time before this
Vedkar: Even before I went out to see Michelle
Vedkar: I wasn't truly happy
neemp: I know exactly what you mean
Vedkar: When I wa s out there, I was a child again
Vedkar: Thank you for understanding
neemp: That's what Looooove and Good Times and Friends will do to you]
sideways on a knife-edge and the act of balancing has tensed me all up so tight that any second the blade will pierce my flesh which has ceased to give and indent to accomodate it.
It's funny I should quote a line about how what's left of the stars are ours, when I really feel starless (hence the icon). But the stars are ours, shared by the both of us, from alongside the river in Old Sacramento. Doesn't mean I can take them home.
I want to graduate in a hurry. I want to peel this life away like a husky shell of old skin and crawl into that dream I lived for three weeks. I feel like a Lovecraft character who has glimpsed the world of dreams, where everything is radiant and shining and we are ethereal, floating golden wisps of energy on platinum wind [I need to flip my calendar... makes my stomach feel sick... I hated Charlie Brown for a second] and then is shackled in a plodding body of meat and protoplasm. [crying again... this time talking to Torak... not so bad this time, just some sobbing and what tears I have left]
Shit, man, I'm going to play some GTA. Later. When my stomach and nerves settle. What really gets me about returning is the ominous sense of what I have before me. I need a job, QUICK and not to retreat into depression, and then I need to make plans to go back to school in January. They say they want me back, but I don't know. I haven't stayed in touch with them like I was supposed to, and that's bound to reflect poorly. Whatever. I think I will do better. I'm not so depressed anymore; I'll be seeking counseling as soon as I have a job again, and I have direction. Before in school, it was like, what's the point? Now I know. It's to let myself be tied down to a job and responsibilities and all that garbage so that my woman's love can set me free when I get home every night. [feeling much better now; tears all dried up. I hate how I stay congested for hours after, though.]
As for where I want to go, which is something I never knew, either, I think I've narrowed it down a bit. I've always held Pennsylvania in reserve. It's one of my favoritest places on earth, if for no other reason than that it's my escape from New Jersey. Hopefully, I would be near Anne and Jason, and Chrissy, too, and even my dad, as that bridge is slowly repaired. Gonna call him for his birthday tonight. I will. If I fall asleep, I'll call him tomorrow. He'll understand. PA is beautiful, and not too hick-y and not all New England pretentious... it's always been short of heaven for me. Though, as a tech writer, I'll probably need to be near Philly or Pitt (oh, god, not Pitt) to get a job. That's one of the problems with my childhood home, Louisville. I'd have to settle there after I was a rich freelancer who could work from home and enjoy the thunderstorms I miss so much. We flew almost through one on the way home; I could see the lightning inside the clouds. I wouldn't know anyone there, though, and that's a big drawback when you're a young couple. What would be nice would be to live outside San Francisco, where it's always nice save the occasional earthquake. It's expensive, but I hope to be making good money in time. And it'd be close to Alison and Logan, with the occasional weekend drive downstate to spend an evening with 23
and a little comeraderie. And silicon valley needs good tech writers possibly more than they need coders. So maybe I'd live further outside SF. It'd still be nice. Even Sacramento, which reeks to me of decay and poverty (sorry, it does :\ ) would be tolerable if it was with Michelle.
This album has played three times already since I started. Track 2, The Pod, rocks. I wish Apollo was on this album. Sorry this was so long. If you read it, my thanks. If you understood
it, my awed respect.