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feeling: empty
listening to: nothing
I guess you could say there are some things I've had whirling around in my mind for a couple weeks or so now, but haven't posted about them yet for various reasons. I thought maybe if I opened this window and stared at the text box long enough, something would come out. But of course, it doesn't work. Everything is right there waiting to pour out of my mind through my fingertips, but all I end up typing is pointless gibberish like this. I don't know if I'm really that big a mess or if I really just don't have the heart to care anymore about what happens to me. Which I guess could be a good thing. Means I don't have to worry about things building up until I they get to me so much I have to either rant it out or break down inside, and either way no one has to put up with my whining.
I'm just... empty. At this point I think I could experience either the greatest or the most painful things in the world, and probably wouldn't even know the difference. Actually, I did have a taste of each of those extremes in the past month and a half, so yeah... guess that's why I say so. Look where it leaves me after the hype dies down, after all. I'm just here. It's all I was ever meant to be.
But that's not really what I came here intending to write about. I can't even begin to put those thoughts together in my head right now. Not even sure what made me think I could. I know at least part of it was some random musing about the purpose of my journal(s)... the rest was various observations about myself and where time has led me and crap... but oh well. Suppose none of it is really all that important.
Anyway, on to less mundane topics. Whatever regular readers I have may recall Phoenix, the betta I've had since less than a year after I started this blog. He finally died the other day, just two months short of completing his fourth year living with me. The little trooper put up with a lot from me in those four years, including all the best and worst times of my life... not to mention a lot of physical woes of his own in his first year or so. I'm actually sort of honored that he died of old age and not some debilitating disease like I always expected he would. Feels pretty empty in here without him around to help me dance like a dork and throw tantrums and cuss things out. I'm sure from his little box of water he never fully understood my reasons for doing those things, but that never stopped him from joining the party when he was healthy and fit enough.
So I guess that's all. Would say don't be surprised if I don't post here much anymore, but I think by now that goes without saying. All of my journals have been severely neglected lately. Even the private ones. I just have no desire to put new posts together, no matter what good or bad comes my way. But as I'm sure my readers are aware, that's really for the best.
comment! (1)
dragged from Becky's stream of consciousness at 9/17/2006 02:01:00 AM
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