make it good

I really do amaze myself sometimes. How is it I can be so pragmatic and unemotional about certain things, but then completely lose my mind when it comes to a few select others? I guess "lose my mind" is the wrong expression. I don't think crazy thoughts about these delicate issues, but I seem to constantly be feeling strong feelings that manifest themselves in uncomfortable physical conditions, like a constantly tightened diaphragm, shortness of breath, stress stored in painful lumps at the base of the neck. My rational mind knows what is happening, knows it is powerless to control the situation in any way, but my cardiovascular system and adrenal glands don't see it that way. My body sees this thing as a constant threat to its wellbeing, perhaps its very existence. So how do I eliminate from the body the thing that has permanently altered the mind, like a rare hallucinogen? The cerebral effects are somewhat pleasing even when they are unwelcome and unexpected, but the physical overstimulation is more than I can stand. I ache all over.

I'm not really scared, either. It is merely uncomfortable.

This all could just as easily be the fresh array of symptoms from some degenerative disease that has been dormant until now.

Strange, though, how it coincides with this utterly absurd time in my life. I wonder how this absurd time will measure against all the others I've already lived through. Does this take the cake? Mmm, cake. I had a chocolate muffin from Robeks today.

I feel like I need a full body cast just not to melt into a puddle of human fragility. I need something solid to contain my strange ethereal essence. Feeling connected to everything all at once, even on a purely philosophical level, is exhausting... As is pining away for something you can probably never have.

Also I am newly addicted to Nat Shermans.

Merry holidays!

false gods?

uncomfortably numb

Ariana Huffington encourages people to blog their passions.

My passions have never been easily articulated. Activities that I enjoy immensely can also bring me emotional agony. My only passion is experience - the solid, tangible feeling of "doing something" and deriving sensations and thoughts through that action.

I love to read and write, but not when my mind is preoccupied with longing.

I love to sing, but not when the sound of my own voice makes me cringe with disgust.

I crave attention and affection, but resent it when it's given as a matter of routine.


I love to learn, but can't seem to find any practical use for my knowledge.

Being back from my short trip to New York feels surreal. This is the life I thought I was used to, but it only took a couple of days in a totally different environment to make me feel like a stranger here. I suppose I always felt that way, but didn't allow this awareness to creep into my conscious thoughts. At least in a big, bustling city I can be one among many strangers. Here, I am truly alone.

Listen to the latest podcasts, won't ya?

http://www.switchpod.com/p19578.html