4:37 p.m. - July 09, 2004
There are no quiet moments
There�s a song out there with the line you�re nobody until somebody loves you. Been thinking about that today, unsure of where I heard the song and caught up once again in the mystery of the human brain. I worry I can�t be loved, that there is something fundamentally flawed with me or in me, overwhelming and dirty that doesn�t go away. The curve ball is that I think this not when I�m single but when I�m not, with the predictable � absurdly, pathetically so � result that I feel most uneasy and dirty when someone is trying to get to know me.
I�m closer to 30 than 25 now and I wonder, I pray and I yell and I want to know for sure if I get to live the way I want to live. I don�t want much, just a footbridge across this chasm between Me and the outside. Writing a book is easier than going out to coffee with a guy who thinks I�m cute. I don�t understand why and pep talks about being happy the way I am, of finding a nobler purpose to life, or getting off my ass and doing something all make sense and are as meaningful as charging someone to clear the beach of sand with a paper cup.
It isn�t self-pity but something deeper. It�s the electrical grid that powers the lights around me, brilliant and beautiful and enthralling, like gazing in wonder as at a museum object. Admiring from afar is the closest one gets. This is how it is for me, even though I know the image is wickedly distorted.
