asleep and dreaming
Tuesday, Nov. 04, 2003 @ 1:11 a.m.

Dear Amy: to you because i'm certain that you never come here anymore, and because you listen...but moreover because sometimes you don't listen (through no fault of your own, you just doesn't use the computer very often),

I hope everything is going well. I don't know what can be meant by that. It's not ambiguous; it's irrelevant. Either things go, or things stop, or things hover in the balance, and my hope will neither cause change nor inspire events to continue as they have been progressing. My wishes are as irrelevant as the fact that it's ten to one my computer will freeze before I finish writing this.

How are you? You can answer if you like, but in my experience the answer isn't as important as offering the question. How do you do, and how do you do? A question answered by a question whose answer is a question that fails to answer the question. Again, redundant. Still, I am curious in the sense that I wonder what you're up to. In this case, the how--the questioning word in question--asks nothing, and all inferences and answers are derived from the connotations of the complete sentence. Please do derive.

I yawned and so did Ryan. He did, you see, because he's doing homework and working 35 hours each week and taking five classes, and it is a tiring ordeal. I, on the other hand, do nothing, alternating that with working very little for quite a lot of money and otherwise wasting my existence on reading and typing and staring and sleeping. I yawn because I am capable of doing so. It's a reaction to shallow breathing. Another bad habit.

I bit my nails today. I don't know why I'm alive. I wish I did, but I fear I never will know. I'll work, I'll write, I'll read and smile and dance and be content. But I'll never know why I'm alive. It's getting me down. It's wearing me out. It's weighing my eyelids down and causing me to sneeze.

I wonder: if I fall asleep will I never wake for a tomorrow? I'm not frightened of death, only numbly cautious of it and let down that my loved ones will not outlive me. I'm not afraid to bear the hurt of their departures, but I am afraid of living.

And my dreams have begun to incorporate daily events, such that I'll dream of a trapeze and a lion and a salty summer breeze, and I'll fly and chase and hide and run, and then suddenly stop to feed my cat. Then when I awake I often believe he has been fed and can't recall whether I awoke in the midst of my dreams and fed him or whether I dreamt it and should give him breakfast. He's getting fat. I don't know what that means.

Which is alright, because I don't know anything much. I'm sad because I sacrificed a work party I desperately wanted to attend because Ryan didn't want to go. And my sadness is compounded by the fact that he's going to his work party without me because they don't allow friends or family to attend. I wouldn't ask him to make the same sacrifice, because he can't read me and besides, I'm being small minded about the whole business. What's a party when you don't understand why the world spins? Perhaps I'll concentrate on dreaming I was there and never know the difference.

Although I already fail to see the difference. And frankly, I understand the dream world better. I don't much care that I control it, but am glad that it caters to me.

It's often that I wonder whether all of my bad deeds are being punished or whether the awful things that happen to me are just arbitrary and I'm going to be getting good things for enduring them. Am I already caught up in the karma department, am I haunted or is there haywiring in my social behaviour? That's another of those questions I hope you never answer.

I'm sorry. I don't remember why I came here. What a long post. I hope it neither shocks nor offends you. I'm going on a night walk. Alone because that's the way I like the rain. I hope everything is going well. I hope everything goes well. I hope everyting goes. I'm going. Hah. Goodnight.