a couple of kooks

11 29 10
It seems like you could just wait, and there'd be a chance later… to really speak and open up,
to really say all you wanted to say but couldn’t in the first moment, while you held back trying to be appropriate and "not too personal"
But it kills you when you eventually find out that there is no later. There is no second chance.
That moment is all you get and now it's gone and they never saw you, heard you, connected with you.
You’re still hidden and you're still nobody. Still so fucking alone.
Just now, we finished a nearly-hour long conversation and I said not one word with any deep meaning. I’m left so unfulfilled, so exasperated inside. I’m breathless and, God, there simply is too much I need to say to him. There is no “how” anymore. It’s gotten out of hand, far out my reach. I can’t control my emotions anymore. I can’t stop this raging feeling of humanism, bonding, honesty, empathy, love.
It never works. I never see. It’s always just me and myself at the end of the day.
She is there still, the only one who really talks to me.
And, just to say, nothing is his fault. He didn’t fail or fall short on that conversation. I love that he even talked to me. He tried. He instigated. He held it out. But ultimately I’m too much of a monster for him.
He’s sweet and simple. Good and kind. I can’t begin to explain to you how much I would unintentionally fuck him up.
Everything good is just a dream.
:::
Do we ever get to a point where everything that happens internally has just as much importance as what's externally happening? They’ve always been the same thing for me, as far as how much it affects me.
Who are we externally and internally…why do they have to be so different? I am two people. But better inside. Inside, I make my own rules and I don’t have to wait for anyone’s decision or approval. Human will can be such a tricky thing. People misunderstand, or it takes too long to make them understand. While my need for love starts to kill me and I’m withering, crumpling.

12 6 10

Part of the drive to live is for people to know about it. I can’t help but want to explore great things, see wondrous things but I can’t stand not sharing it and finding out others feel it too. If the world were all apes and I was the only intelligent one, and I had all these glorious thoughts, seeing beautiful truths… but it was all known alone, still I’d be so sad none of it would matter. It’s nothing without consensus and genuine connection. Part of truth is our inevitable connection to one another, and our love for one another. If I couldn’t share it I’d simply die of sadness. It’s part of what hope means.