Can't Break the Cycle
<< 2:16 p.m. - Tuesday, Apr. 01, 2003 >>
Home for only 4 hours and I feel myself being sucked into my residual routine. Homework piles up in the corners of my mind, and I find all I want to do is ease my headache and mess around with stupid shit. I had hoped that I would remain the quiet observer as I was on the train. I think life would be easier if I was like Siddhartha; aloof and unfeeling. But it�s so easy to get involved and frantic.

Train ride was long and arduous. Sitting on your ass for 24 hours is harder than it sounds. Took movies of myself staring out the window and the scenery. I was being pulled through time. Memories of Chicago got dimmer and stretched, the voices of my aunt and uncle become murky after so little time. I hate this. I hate being so far away. I miss everything important.

How do I describe the feeling of utter emptiness in me? My heart gets heavy and so soft. And I find myself defensive. I wish so hard to be with my family, but I can�t bear life in Michigan. Torn. Distracted. Ruined. I�ve never had so many people like me�understanding and yet ignoring love and conflict. We just laugh and pretend there isn�t a war and my grandpa isn�t dead, and my aunt isn�t gone, and that we�re fading ourselves. The Herman�s will just be a middle class family lost in the surge of history.

After all the books and my own conscious, I still want to be remembered. Still want my name in a textbook for having achieved something. Why create wishes that will always be crushed?