So Duvet again...

I've been talking a lot about love lately, to others, to myself, to no one else. The fact is, love has been the greater preocupation in my life for some time. Amidst the whirlwind that my life has been it was a constant. What does it mean? How is it formed? When? Why? Do I still believe in it, do I still believe it was ever meant for me?
I was nineteen on Wednesday and I had intended on at least writing a birthday post but I was entertained by other more vain concerns. I've been reading a charming romantic novel about a young Egyptologist. The college settings, the passion for work, the fear of forming a relationship. I suppose I sympathized with the character. The scenes of first love... I think I sympathized with the writer. Yes I want to be loved too, like that, vous n'avez aucune raison de rougir, I want to fall back and be courted and feel very wanted. I want it to be as simple as that.

Of course it never really works like that, and I'm going to have to snap out of this one before attempting to become a candidate for the Nobel Literature Prize.

For the last few days I've been experiencing a strange sort of feeling. It's the simple realization that I have nothing more pressing to do than sit back, talk to my friends, read my books and write whatever I please. And so I try to create a new set of responsabilities, a new set of goals so I won't drift, so that I won't have to think about the inevitable. And now, what do you want to write about now?

Last night I fell asleep reading something I wrote fours years ago. It meant something, i was writing about something then, something I cannot quite recall then. It feels like I'm loosing precious time, every second, every breath in which the doubt still exists.

Violins, a beautiful violin as she sings. Where am I? Will I be here tomorrow? I feel so unreal.

I am listening to the Duvet Remix, slowly, beat, as if rising from within my chest, readying for the greater beats, for the final burst. I am falling, fading, drowning. Help me to breath. Not at all. I think I'm only half-alive, because when I am dying I feel very much alive, but now. What is my purpose, where do I go from here, once this terrible pain fades what do I do with my life? What do I mean? Tempo, tempo. Ooooooh. If I could write down what music means, what it does to the soul or the eyes, where music takes me. Drums more drums.

Where do I go from here?

Time

So I'm sitting here at school, in front of a school computer, with so many people around me, hearing their hushed conversations, looking at their fleeting shadows on the walls...

I'm sitting here and all I can think is how the hell did I wake up today still being myself. Somehow I had kid myself into hoping I might turn into something else overnight, a mouse, a mushroom, a rose... anything. I was hoping that sleep might work its own strange magic and make me forget, tear out the parasite from my breast.

But it hasn't and it never will. There is no such an easy answer.

Today as I trudge along the world thinking I don't really care about anything anymore, neither reading, neither writing, neither little school projects, I realize the only possible solution is time, a long unimaginable period of time that might extract the image from my eyes, the smell from inside my head, the feel of arms and murmur of words. Only if I think in terms of months can I live, months in the future in which this dull ache of emptiness might fade. Months where little by little these delirious happiness and this agonic sorrow might stop.

I have to go now. I really do. I don't know anymore, I don't know how I'm going to get through today.

Everything, she said, I would give everything...

"Ah, he knows not that it was I who saved his life," thought the little mermaid. "I carried him over the sea to the wood where the temple stands: I sat beneath the foam, and watched till the human beings came to help him. I saw the pretty maiden that he loves better than he loves me;'' and the mermaid sighed deeply, but she could not shed tears. "He says the maiden belongs to the holy temple, therefore she will never return to the world. They will meet no more: while I am by his side, and see him every day. I will take care of him, and love him, and give up my life for his sake."


If I should stay,
I would only be in your way.
So I'll go, but I know
I'll think of you ev'ry step of the way.

And I will always love you.
I will always love you.
You, my darling you. Hmm.

Bittersweet memories that is all
I'm taking with me.
So, goodbye. Please, don't cry.
We both know I'm not what you, you need.

And I will always love you.
I will always love you.

I hope life treats you kind
And I hope you have all you've dreamed of.
And I wish to you, joy and happiness.
But above all this, I wish you love.

And I will always love you.
I will always love you.
I will always love you.
I will always love you.
I will always love you.
I, I will always love you.

You, darling, I love you.
Ooh, I'll always, I'll always love you.

Songs

Just little snippets of songs. I've been busy and working, worrying about school, about the future. Maybe more than anything trying not to think about it, even though it has become sweeter, milder, more like a faint aftertaste than the fulltorrent of pain. It doesn't feel like I'm dancing upon sharp knives anymore. So I think I can stop being dramatic now.

I feel... faintly happy... faintly sorrowful...

Just little pieces, things that jump at me between sleep and laughter and words filling the blank pages of my books...

I guess you could say
I'm a little afraid
What if you go away?
I've seen it before
I've been there before
If I have to love myself
Tell me how to love myself
What's there to love about myself?

Sixpence None the Richer

I'm not afraid to feel
I want you to love me
Cause you are the one
Cause you are the one
Cause you are the one

His Infernal Majesty

I know what you need.
This will really work.
In ancient times if you were sick,
They’d make you bleed.
Oh honey I know it hurts.

Rasputina

So I'm feeling strangely light, strangely free, somehow as if acceptance is finally working... and I'm thinking "when you're on your knees, things seem closer somehow"...


Lately I'm not the only one
I say never trust anyone
Always the one who has to drag her down
Maybe you'll get what you want this time around