It's disconcerting when you aren't sure how to feel about something or someone, or when you wish you knew why you feel the way you do about the same two things. What's more disconcerting as of recent is that I feel omniscient, but in an out-of-body sense where I am in recognition of every single thing I do, but have no understanding of why I am doing it or how I feel about it. Desire and wanting to be desired are comic concepts: never reciprocated and never the same. Never easy either. Sometimes I wish I was just watching my life like it was some ill-aired sitcom, I wouldn't worry half as much, if at all, about how often I seem to make wrong decisions. It'd be awful nice to sigh, or laugh and shout from the other side of a television screen. Regardless I need to stop likening my life and the people in it to scenes and characters from books and live in the real World.
I've decided the tugging in acceleration on my car last week that no longer seems to be an issue was water damage from the flash floods. I often misplace the notion that my car is not only 10 years old but ragged to death and so can't handle my some what ruthless road intervention. It's quite pathetic that I generally get annoyed when I see old people driving a nice car at a snail's pace and believe that they shouldn't deserve the priviledge when I drive a heap of shit and ductape, normally at least on par with the national speed limit. Unless your name's Harriet Lucas I'm almost definitely a very agitated person to look at right now. Like a crack fiend in rehab but not as jittery yet just as full of angst. I'll probably start asking into thin air to 'saved' and 'let go' similarily however. I need to be one of those people that is pretty to look at and a mystery to understand.
I'm getting increasingly illiterate and it's heart breaking.
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