:: musings of a misfit ::
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
something i wrote in my travel journal during the trip. i think some of my friends can recall this same conversation with me but felt the need to voice it out. Over coffee this morning a friend helped me reassess my state of vacillation and though i hate to admit it, the facts precede my wants.

the sun shines periodically but the wind breaks its heat. i'm at a point wherein i break into tears at the thought of my confusion and ambiguity. Do i even possess the validity for my insolent despise for a certain person's freedom to choose against my hope? is his decision even a justification of my insecurity for his detachment from me? Maybe not. My questions were answered by a slip of the tongue and a pressing of more information. It's just not what i wanted to hear. because i believed his edges of reason. his superfluous pretext as to why i'm not good enough. and yet with all the telltale warning signs and suspicions, i remain the downtrodden. stupidity again. lack of good judgment seems to be one of my strong points. not bad for someone who supposedly has the world at her fingertips - or so my loved ones insist. i shouldn't trust anyone. those who say i've changed their lives. those who say i'm special. they may be all but sad and empty expressions fueled by cold stonehearts who feel nothing but the desire to protect themselves...said the skeptic bitter bitch.

but as i said this morning under the welcomed heat of afternoon sun, enjoying a nice iced cafe mocha and cigarette at bay (pun not intended)...i am not bitter. just weak in the knees and wanting to lie down in surrender. i went to SF to run away. the dark dreary cloud has still been hovering around me but i do think it has begun to shrink and soon will not exist.

I watched Saul Williams recite an excerpt from his book yesterday at Tower Records. The beats drew me in, but the words wrung my heart in familiarity. I then wondered whether art is an expression or an aide memoire of my psyche. I usually end up with echoes of silence after a performance like that because another person's voice has reverberated old haunting melodies. Most of which i choose to forget or set aside for fear they will consume my days of tears and paralysis. I feel like this is the city i left my soul, probably in a past life. But do i really want to hear its sighs again - both happy and sad? or do i remain in limbo where i can escape into ignorant bliss?

posted by maldita @ 3:13 PM  
 
 

she had eyes like two turntables mix(h)er in between my dreams and reality blend in ancient themes the bas(e)is of isis cross-faded to ankh the beat drops like a cliff over looking my heart - Saul Williams


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