i'm furiously restless. nothing changes, and the fact that i can't even write about it anymore doesn't help. i seem to have run out of ways to restate what i've been saying for so long. that i'm sick of the way things are, sick of my life. that my belief in the existence of God hasn't left but that my belief that He'd actually do anything to help is a little less than strong.

if i've learned nothing else, i know that i can't get rid of this on my own; at least, i've certainly been unsuccessful until now. perhaps nothing short of God will fix it, yet somehow that seems unlikely. distractions are temporary, solutions unforeseeable. i don't know where i'm going; where i've been is a blur.

so many times i want to just collapse into somebody, but i have to hold myself together. the charade is important because no one knows what it is to commit anymore. those who do have already committed. the pie's all gone, and once again my indecisiveness has robbed me of even a sliver.

it's a common human need, really. to feel important. loved.

the rainy day starts on the inside. i'm coming close to giving up.

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