the days are getting shorter, the nights as long as ever (evenings are longest). apathy, contentment; boredom, relaxation...right, wrong - the lines are blurred. it'd be almost enough to feel anything more than faint sensations.

i've almost come to the point where i've accepted that intimacy might not be something meant for me. if only i could totally come to terms with that, my life would probably be a little easier, if less interesting. as it is now, it's a vision in the distance, diluted by so many times that i've been disappointed by misplacing affections. it's no longer much of a longing, at least. i think i'm as close as i can be to being an island unto myself; if not, at least closer than i used to be. granted, i have to live around other people, but i don't have to make much of them. little investment, little return - but little risk. help when i can, care when i should; it just seems to work well that way. cultivate relationships with little expectation, at least as far as that notion will allow them to be cultivated. friendly, but not befriending.

nothing to be depressed about - just a new sense of normal - not too disappointing to not have a life after all. i have my books, my music, my neverending thoughts about anything and everything. company enough are the moving pictures in my head; i know little else. living long enough to amass fond memories of past adventure, i can live off those. forming new ones in places they should be most likely to be formed brings apprehension and quite enough what ifs. for now, i am i. "an easy tool, deferential, glad to be of use, politic, cautious, and meticulous; full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse." it's enough. whether or not personal growth can be accomplished on one's own, i'm going to try.

call it irresponsible; i call it a coping mechanism.

a brief and terribly undescriptive return - 10.28.04
- - 09.17.04
- - 08.16.04
- - 08.13.04
- - 07.30.04