it's just this unsettled feeling. i'm too much. too much turmoil, too much emotion, too nerve-racked. not necessarily negatively, but rather chaotic. i'm not depressed.. no. that's not it. i'm not sad or angry. too back and forth. too sentimental, then the very definition of detached. too longingly, and then an escapist. decisive then flighty. what is going on? i'm not distressed about it either, perhaps being the oddest fact of the matter. i am here, then i am gone. i exist and this is real then i am not even a thought and everything is just the moments before consciousness when you can't really distinguish dream from life. argh. i recently considered the very possibility that i have hit the manic peak of the roller coaster. yes, that must be it. i will just sit back, scream my lungs out and enjoy the ride this time. not much to lose now & i have everything. what a paradox. :D

alas i am once again plopped down into the middle of yet another multi-months wait. who am i to be surprised, my life is nothing more than a series of sessions spent eagerly watching the grains of sand make their slow-motion descent below the narrows of my hourglass universe. even before i was waiting, i was. so, here i am.. frozen. a paralyzed grain of salt, amidst. the last disconcerting residue of hopeful naivety, oblivious to my own disposition, enveloped by them.
yes, the waits do have their end. though, often i am tempted to dive into the notion that they are more pauses.. the spiteful moments of revolution this cruel hourglass uses to torture me with the horizontal possibility that my mind is my reality is true existence and not just a mere mass of falling numbers.
a perpetual cycle, oh yes. the grains always migrate back, and then back again. before i have a chance to glance the bottom.. to see for myself that the ground does exist below my feet & believe i am not spent, forever dangling in the clouds.


it is raining outside. this does not remedy my discontent. the freshly overturned universe does give me the determination and restless aggravation to be the changes i wish to see, but when will the waits end? why can't the tables be what are turned, where life IS the ongoing moment i long for & the urnings are few and far between?
my mind is very troubled because i have the not-quite-sneaking suspicion that, in its masochistic nature, it would not find peace once nothing is left to desire.

so i will wait. and wait. and wait again.
don't think you have me all figured out. the sociopath does for you to do for himself

& hate is love is hate.