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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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I remember angry
I have been surfing for a bit after spending the morning fighting and crying--though it wasn't as dramatic as it sounds writing it; it was mainly just stuff that there isn't much crying over left to do. That makes sense, but not grammatically. What I mean, gramatically, is: The stuff that Max and I were fighting over is old stuff, still unresolved, but so hashed that it might as well be resolved because we fight and cry over it with a kind of weariness that belies our true feelings for the subject. Then we usually move on, knowing that what we are fighting over isn't really resolvable and that eventually it will serve to dissolve our union which seems so steady but is steady because we refuse to see that it isn't really. So much explanation for what doesn't make sense. It seems as though just by wanting something from someone who is almost willing, but not quite, to give it should be enough--tho' I know from other parts of my life that this is not how it works. I know that if wishes were horses and all that crap, but I so far have been able to ignore what I know in favor of this kind of half-life that is distracting enough. I'm not content, but I am knowledgably discontent, which is enough for an old sceptic like myself. That fucking Visa ad from Capital One at the top of my screen is enough to make me want to never have a Visa and/or write an angry letter to the pinhead who came up with the fucking thing.
More lies:
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