Whir.
<< 9:41 a.m. - Saturday, Mar. 27, 2004 >>
�Out in space, days away

Through these eyes
I rely on all I've seen
Obscured
Through these eyes
It looks like I'm home tonight�

I had hoped this week would stretch like our past endless summers, but I forget. It�s a week, not three months. And then, when summer does come, what am I to do with myself? I took a year off, didn�t even bother looking at colleges, and I�m here. I�m here.

I�m warming up to a point here � maybe. Don�t have much time till I run off to work. This week has granted me release and epiphany. Something feels wholer. I just hope I can remember what I have discovered. You know my memory fails me sometimes. I cling to what is familiar. Your warmth. My swings. We are electric currents that rip and pulse and statically begin to move the earth. And what I�m mumbling about here may be going somewhere. Have patience with me. You - they are not my projects. I refuse that title.

I am beginning to believe that in a way we are all the same. We all believe we are alone, no one knows trials and tribulations like we do. Perhaps this is so. I read everywhere, in every honest livejournal, over every oblivious shoulder, and into some blatant conversations; that we are all struggling with ourselves. Constant battle of finding our box. Finding our space - and somehow it seems that everyone else can fit, and we just can�t do it. Just like all the passersby in our bubble of a world are like background motion. Empty people, with lives that make ours stand out in clarity. Hard for me to imagine sometimes that all of these blurred background shufflers have an energy and a story.

I just have to remember that I am not the only one out there.