Ted Hugh's Poem on Sylvia's Death.

I don't want to die. Die is too strong of a word because then I would cease to exist and that wouldn't work because eventually, I am sure I will want to exist again. But right now, that death feeling is what is living inside of me and eating me from the bottom of the soles of my feet right into my aching brain. I don't want to die but I have this odd desire not to live right now either.

I have no purpose at the moment. I'm just writing this blog that is entirely for my own processing of the world, which is entirely static at this moment. So I am just writing about my inner psychosis which only brings to light things that I would prefer to leave buried in my repression. And then I do some homework which feels like I am just going through the motions, without reason or passion or desire to further my learning. I guess the best analogy I have right now is that I am treading water.

After a while of treading water, you get fucking tired. Fucking tired of doing something so mindless and fucking tired of having nothing to occupy your wandering mind but the fact that your life really fucking sucks at the moment. That's the point I've hit.

I'm not waving but drowning. And actually, I'm not really waving at all. I want to wave but right now, I don't know how because I am just too fucking tired wallowing in my own sorrow to make myself wallow less and get my hands above water.

...I don't know where I am to go from here. I am not sure how plotting my course will save me from myself and the life I've created. I do know, however, that writing all of this has to be inspiration to swim to some floatation device.

Back to December.

The new Taylor Swift single out, Back to December, is all about regret. She loses someone that is important to her, a fact she realizes only after he is no longer a part of her life. That old adage, you don't know what you have until its gone, rings in one's ears as they listen to this ballad.

Most of the time, I know who I need in my life. I don't think it's a sixth sense or anything. I just think that I am so picky about who I really care about that there is no reason should I be trying to hold onto extraneous people or situations. When I first heard the song, it reminded me of someone I had been seeing and where I first felt the heart string tug surprised me. Did I miss what we had or is T.Swift trying to turn me into some sort of sap? The momentary lapse in mental footing passed and I could return to the logic of the situation: we weren't right for one another. The way I handled the whole shindig is beyond inexcusable but at the very crux of my immature behavior was the undeniable notion that, no, that wasn't meant to be.

But then there are other people and I swear to God everyday that if I never saw them again, I would be a much healthier and happier person. So I keep telling myself that, rehearsing the lines when people ask if I've seen them, and try to convince my stubborn self that I really don't need them in my life. There are so many reasons why I shouldn't care and why they shouldn't care about me (another vestige of my immaturity at its finest) but there is nothing I can do to make myself give up having them in my life.

I think having a time line on life here is also impelling me to freak out about the end note, a phenomena I experienced full force this summer post CLOC. And while I know that the friendships that matter in life will actually span states, years, divorces, whatever, it is still hard to come to terms with the fact that next year, this time, this life here will be continuing while I am off starting a new adventure. And maybe, just maybe, I need to figure out who really matters before the time comes to put that to the test.