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5:17 p.m. - July 06, 2003
This is my song, half untold, half told over and over
At the office, leaving for the townhouse soon. Listening to Tom Petty; there isn't anybody else in the entire building. This university is vaguely comforting and I am lost among the crush of Behemoth that is this place. I came here last year for the ego boost at winning this coveted (for some, maybe) position and once here, I sucked up all the juices I could, the parasite preparing for a drought. This year I am stumbling here and there seeking the ego boost and it is not to be found. Yes, my dean thinks I'm brilliant and I shine in front of students and evaluations shout Yippee!! and seemingly I can do no wrong, but there's something wrong in me. Nothing is satisfactory, nothing fulfilling. I don't understand my head or my body and it feels like I'm adrift, my tropical isle with coconut tree sinking lower and lower.

I'm here, aren't I?

It doesn't mean as much to me this year. It isn't because I've matured and can stand alone, it isn't because I don't need or want it to mean much, because I do. It's a rough carbon copy of that unsent letter, wrinkled and overlooked.

I'm afraid of so many things. I'm afraid to apply for jobs, I'm afraid to meet people, afraid to let go and breathe in vast draughts of air and play in the sprinklers. I'm afraid of what I've lost and more afraid of not finding the new.

This is my song.


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