Some kind of love.

[crows]

I am, in this particular moment of this particular day, distinctly unhappy. And I don't know why. A few of these moments have overtaken me in recent weeks... and I'm just now realizing that. They don't ever last long, and don't seem to have much substance.

Last night was strange. The moon I painted on my hand with henna has faded, but I had dreams about the end of the world. And I'd wake from them, for a few minutes... staring, half-consious. Then, he would move beside me and I would be startled, as if I'd forgotten, in my sleep, that he was there. This is alarming to me because of how many nights I've spent with this man in bed beside me. The ususal case is the opposite - he won't be there, and I will awake thinking he -is-.

There was a moment, in that phantasmagoria. I was in a squat version of my house, doing I don't remember what, and outside a brilliant summer day turned into an even more brilliant, but brief, deluge of snow. Snow unlike any I'd ever seen... bright and dry and swirling, like puffy silver glitter raked about on a malicious wind. It was a bad omen, I'm sure. Some news is coming to me, something. Maybe that is why I feel the yearning I do. I feel like a peice of me is missing, that it lies in the heart of another. Someone who has gleaned ultimate respect from me, and a fair ammount of fear, in my way.

Hearing his voice has not quenched my mind.

I want to go to bed and sleep so badly. But I don't think the dreams will help. It's as if there's some other being inside of me that is struggling with this anguish, tears welling up in my eyes but they are only partially my own. I feel disconnected, far away, superimposed on the wrong background somehow. What on earth is wrong with me? What am I keeping from myself?

Comments

[lunatimefly.livejournal.com]

how beautiful.