i

confusion sprung up from devotion

(I’m tired of muttering under my code.)

Look. This isn’t working out.

The fields I used to harvest are empty. The mental paths I took to them are overgrown. If you want metaphors.

I miss when this meant something to me.

I miss when there was a purity to this text box.

I miss when it was a little raw. It’s so easy to laugh. It takes strength to be genuine and good, so mostly I end up the reluctant jester or I end up silent.

I think in allusions and puns. I’m waiting for you to decode them, read them instead of the words, break my code, but you never do.

It’s all building up into something I don’t think I like. I’m not sure why. I think it’s just everything.

I’m not enthusiastic.

And I’m not sure it’s good for my (real) writing.

And I don’t think I have anything to say.

And My parents know about this now, did you know that? I don’t know how to be honest like this with my parents around. We don’t have that kind of relationship. ()

And I wonder if it’s terrible for my life.

And maybe it’ll change now that I have regular internet access (DSL, even), but it seems like, I don’t know, a waste of time. Or effort. Or both.

And I think I’ve convinced myself I’m happy. (And what do I do here when I’m happy?)

It’s just everything, you know. Going fallow. Going green.

Filed by shaun at September 12th, 2004 under fidelite