Tuesdays...
2/11/03 01:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alasanon...are sometimes forgotten in the rush of days.
Here now...what happened, darling? Why are you looking so forlorn? I assure you, I haven't forgotten you. I just took a little longer to notice that you had arrived than I sometimes do. I know, I made plans with you, yes, and I'll keep to it, just wait. Now dry those tears, precious. It'll all seem all right in a few moments. Just as soon as you realize that you really are special to me. My dearest Tuesday--the fun we shall have!
It always seems to happen when I'm alone at night, when I should be going to sleep, when the only noises are the mp3 player flipping idly through languages and musical styles and the cat chewing her food. I start feeling bitter. It's not sad or depressed or angry or anything like that--it's definitely bitter. Like too-strong black coffee, or over-steeped black tea, or unripe persimmons. Unpleasant to the mouth, curdling to one's spirit. It usually goes away after I sleep, but the process of getting to that point is so difficult sometimes. I can distract myself from it, as I can distract myself rather easily from almost anything I happen to be doing, but it does come back (which is more than I can say for my attention to other matters), sometimes not even all that much later.
Something, somewhere, is very, very wrong with me, and I don't know what and I don't know where, but it seems to be drawing to a head. The once-parallel lines are beginning to converge on a single point, and when that point has been reached, I will know. Until then, I will feed on my bitterness in the same way I feed on the energy of sleep.
Now we shall start, from the beginning--
A is for antipathy, B for belligerence, C for catatonia...
Here now...what happened, darling? Why are you looking so forlorn? I assure you, I haven't forgotten you. I just took a little longer to notice that you had arrived than I sometimes do. I know, I made plans with you, yes, and I'll keep to it, just wait. Now dry those tears, precious. It'll all seem all right in a few moments. Just as soon as you realize that you really are special to me. My dearest Tuesday--the fun we shall have!
It always seems to happen when I'm alone at night, when I should be going to sleep, when the only noises are the mp3 player flipping idly through languages and musical styles and the cat chewing her food. I start feeling bitter. It's not sad or depressed or angry or anything like that--it's definitely bitter. Like too-strong black coffee, or over-steeped black tea, or unripe persimmons. Unpleasant to the mouth, curdling to one's spirit. It usually goes away after I sleep, but the process of getting to that point is so difficult sometimes. I can distract myself from it, as I can distract myself rather easily from almost anything I happen to be doing, but it does come back (which is more than I can say for my attention to other matters), sometimes not even all that much later.
Something, somewhere, is very, very wrong with me, and I don't know what and I don't know where, but it seems to be drawing to a head. The once-parallel lines are beginning to converge on a single point, and when that point has been reached, I will know. Until then, I will feed on my bitterness in the same way I feed on the energy of sleep.
Now we shall start, from the beginning--
A is for antipathy, B for belligerence, C for catatonia...
