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Feeling: I didn't get enough sleep, though. At least I only have to be here until 5:00 PM. Audio du jour echoing in my head: Why are there so many songs about rainbows Who said that every wish would be heard and answered All of us under its spell, Have you been half asleep? And have you heard voices? Laa, da daa dee da daa daa,
Unfortunately, most of them were complaints.
First, Bellona complained because I linked a previous entry that she didn't really like that much, even though there's no way to trace it back to being her. She I decided to be a nice guy and go ahead and unlink it, because it adds nothing to the entry to reference the old one, I just wanted to point to it since she's not in the "others" file.
Fair enough.
Later that evening I saw Tabitha. I told her, "hey, I wrote about you today," because she hardly ever reads the journal anymore (she seems to despise computers nowadays since she has to help everybody she knows with theirs), so she said that she knew she had to read the whole entry to find out what I wrote about her. And she did! (I think she seriously thought I said something non-flattering about her.)
Sigh.
This morning I'm laying in bed with NPR on in the background trying to mentally chill when Moogie comes and brings me the phone, saying it's a woman on the phone. She has figured that I'd been previously upset because of Gurugrrl, so she must have thought it was her on the phone. (Well, that, and she's nosy as Hell.)
As far as I can remember, this is how the call went:
"Hey." It's Trinity.
"Mmmm. What's up?"
"You left my name on the heart, you have to take it off!"
"I did?"
"Yes, you have to take it off!"
"Okay, I will."
"You promise?"
"Yes, I promise."
"Okay. Bye."
"Bye."
I can't believe she phoned at 6:30 AM (her time, 8:30 my time) to tell me this. I was going to remain unconscious until 10:00 or so.
So I got up, staggered into the shower, got out, blurred it out, sharpened it up, did a little better color correction, and even made the file size smaller. She hung around online just until it was done (I guess she wanted to make sure I did it). During my trying to slice through the morning brain fog enough to edit the image, though, she pointed out all the things I misconstrued and wrote about in my journal, too.
At least I got a couple nice letters (answers pending).
I'm really ambivalent about what to do about Trinity.
Part of me says just hide. When I talk to her or think about her or... about anything, I feel sad. I feel guilty. I feel like a rotten bastard.
Another part of me has me sitting here doing job searches for her and ruminating on things in general.
What sucks more is that she'll say that I'm being mean to her even posting something like this here.
I don't like the idea that people who I know offline, or have gotten to know online, are reading this and taking it so personally. Please, please, understand this: when I say this is my journal, this is my journal. I work out my thoughts here. I write my impressions here. I put down things I want to remember, or warnings to myself in the future, or whatever. It's like an offline journal would be, except that if I kept it offline I'd be writing it in Word and I'd be using real names.
Thus, if you read this you run a real risk of being offended. If you can't deal with that, then... I don't know what to tell you. Don't read? That's all I can suggest.
If I don't seem to make much sense, or say one thing at one moment, and then something else, then... so be it. Like Walt Whitman said, "do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself.
I am large, I contain multitudes."
I know I'm not the only one who functions this way. People need to not take everything I say so seriously. If you want to know what I really think, then ask me. Confront me. Discuss it with me.
I guess what I'm saying is that I am much more than what I write here, and I can't expend the energy dealing with the fallout from what I write.
I don't know why, but I can't get "The Rainbow Connection" out of my head.
Every now and again I hear a song and it hooks on to something in my head. It feels like I'm supposed to distill some message or deep meaning out of it.
It's a song about searching for some elusive truth or meaning. I have felt like I've been looking for something my whole life, and I get visions of it when I'm halfway paying attention. For example, sometimes I'll be in a bookstore, and I have this part of me that says, "buy this book. You must read it. It will change you if you do."
What do I do? Ignore that impulse. When I finally go back and read it again, then I regret not reading it at the original time. It's maddening.
For years I keep having ideas and making plans, and I see other people implementing the ideas and living out the plans. I have dreamt certain things, and never follow through on them in the end. I know deep down, at any given time, that I haven't pursued what is most important to me.
I feel like my life is so meaningless, and I am supposed to be doing something, be somewhere, and it makes no sense. Direction is nowhere to be found. I feel like my life has been squandered.
I don't even know what to do about it, frozen by fear, and with both feet nailed to the floor in that manner I hear the strains of this song, a children's song, haunting me.
Am I torturing myself?
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