4:55 p.m. - April 19, 2003
Today went out and about and the running mental commentary was Spec this, Spec that, we here, we there. It's not a painful I-want-to-cry feeling but more you-dumbfuck-you-couldn't-hold-it-together-or-make-it-work and I'm both incredulous and dismissive of these thoughts. People - ha, census revision: One person - chalk up these thoughts and feelings to the end of a relationship but that's not it au fond du coeur, as Proust or Baudelaire says (can't remember whom) in that over-weening and hyper-dramatic mien. I yielded and trusted someone despite my - instincts? mindset? worldview? - and I feel violated. A strong word but that's how I feel. Of all silly things, I feel that I was taken advantage of but I know logically that I wasn't, I know things just didn't take. But I feel small, the only word I can think of that captures the impression of being vulnerable and weak and naive. And I hate that feeling because it reminds me of how illusory my grasp, my control, really is.
I don't understand myself.
I'm tired of saying that.
Went to Elliott Bay and not even an armful of books mitigated these thoughts. Made a poor impression on an acquaintance. Cannot reach Bathsheba and she's not responding to email (heh... the irony).
I feel like going to a bar and having a few beers and listening to good, loud music. Hmmm. I notice the plural of beer and am surprised. I'd say so unlike me but I'm unsure whether that's accurate.
Have a good Easter. Eh. Who am I kidding. None of you grasp what it means. I don't either, anymore. So happy easter eggs and chocolate bunnies. Yeah, that fits.