dolorous interludes.

amazing. i fail to turn to this quasi-available avenue for my thoughts yet again. its been almost a month... well perhaps not quite, but almost. i love being alone at home on afternoons when i know i need not fear the darkness and of its enveloping insidiousness that drowns me sometimes in melancholy. today is no exception. i find that i only derive glimpses of inspiration to write here when im alone at home. and im listening to norah jones. a nice day for reflection. self reflection. i have been most guilty. what was last night about? it feels like it was only last night. i must confess my mild attraction towards the unknown and unfamiliar. sometimes familiarity and protection bores me. like him. i thought i almost forgot you in the midst of my fantasies of my recent interest in other areas. people. returning to this blog is somewhat like a slap in the face. of the futility of my life. of the transience of all of my faintest interests and mild hopes of an exciting and eventful life. i realise the nothingness of what life must bring. of what life -does- bring. he didnt realise why i clammed up yesterday. i know i can trust no one fully here. man is much too prone to folly and deceit himself. i am no exception. i wish only that i could fulfill my immediate desires so that i could move on to a state of nothingness again and realise that something has passed me by and that its yet again one of those things people attribute to it being, just, life. i guess.

posted by voyeur @ 3/17/2003 01:50:00 PM