Sunday, June 19, 2005
Ignore me
My enetation is acting strange. For the previous post it says there are 2 comments but I only saw one. I replied, and it just disappeared into the vast morass of cyberspace. Drat.
More melancholic thoughts. Every day I find myself visiting places that are but shells. Shells that used to contain something meaningful, shells of precious memories of the past. I know the person who left them is no longer there, but I still find my way there before the recollection hits me, that the somebody I'm looking for isn't in this place any more. Time and time again it happens to me, my limbs being drawn, almost unbidden, by the subconscious, by the memory of months of repetitive action. I stay there for a while, reminiscing. At times I ask myself what I'm looking for. Is it the memory of a memory? A fragment of a time long past, a time that still means something to me? Or am I clinging on to the miserable chance that someday the person I'm waiting for will return? Return and see me there. I have no idea, but I suppose I'll never stop waiting.
Sometimes it's delightful to see a new entry on a blog of a friend who has not posted for the longest time. So long that you think he or she might have stopped altogether. But I just wait patiently, visiting from time to time, looking at the posts, the fragments of thought from a time long past, fragments that evoke a memory. And one day, I might just find a new post, there. Experience a thrilling sense of excitement that finally, the day has come, that all my waiting hasn't gone unrewarded.
I want to thank the people who make the wait worthwhile. And the others, who've left off and not returned, I'll continue to wait and look forward to the day you return. So if you contemplate it, know that you won't be facing empty rows of seats. There will be at least one person, sitting there, to raise his hands in applause, in appreciation.
More and more, as time passes by, I feel like I don't know a lot of people anymore. I have so many expectations of people. I expect them to be the way they were when I met them years ago, but time changes people. I feel like I'm standing in a gigantic field watching everyone disappear into the distance, moving away from me, but I am myself moving. I am not the exact same person I was three or five years ago, and three or five years later I won't be identical to the person I am today. I hate change, I wish everything could stay the same and I would be comfortable with knowing that everything was the same. I'm selfish. I never want to let go, and yet the harder I hold on to something the faster it slips away, uncontrollably.
Sigh, I am in such a miserable mood. Staying at home on a Sunday has that effect on a person, I guess. I'm kind of waiting for a very specific event to occur, and as time passes my hopes of it ever happening get smaller and smaller. I wonder all the time if it's all a coincidence, if that silhouette of a dog is a trick of the light on the bushes, or if there's actually a dog there. I can't tell from where I'm standing, and I don't know if I should investigate.
Avaris / 6/19/2005 07:14:00 PM
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