Splitting Headache

I woke this morning with such a headache I think my right brain had a boxing match with the left. Maybe its from the perma-frown Ive been sporting lately. Who knows. I came home today early, for two strict reasons. I hate school, and recovery of possible missing teeth from the apparent boxing match.

I walk in the door of my shoebox home, and find Alfie, my dog, dutifully waiting exactly where I left him this morning. Can you say Loyalty? My god, I wish I had that much tenacity. I lay down, and he comes and licks my hands until my finger prints fall off. Finally, after a thorough bath from alfie, I decided to see if House, my favorite show was recorded. It was not.... but in its holy place, Becoming Jane was recorded. Its just as well, why not have a completely depressing movie about love boost my spirits? Honestly the story of Jane Austen is both beautiful and tragic. I was thinking about it and I would rather run away with my true love and live not as affluent as I might have been with some bore, or no one at all. I would rather lose social standing, success, wealth, nice dinners, for a life with the ones that truly care for me and I to them. Like e.e. cummings said " Kisses are a better fate than wisdom". I happen to completely agree. If, by lucky circumstances you are blessed with a superb education, I warn you. Please do not let your intelligence get to your head.

The other day, I was incandescently enamored by a sunset. The colors, reds, purples, yellows, blues... it was beyond any comprehensable beauty. It is nothing a paint brush could imitate, or a photograph could capture. I made the mistake of trying to share my enthusiasm. They did not recieve it like I had. I must be completely honest, it depressed me. I was so sad, because I know of only one other person that saw things like I do. That depressed me even more. I cannot even share these moments with that person any longer. I can say -shoulda, woulda, coulda- but it wont help anything. It just deepens my wounds even atmore. I guess this could be a way Jane Austen felt. Abandoned for something else. She was only left with a pen andparchment.

Im ready for change, anything. I can leave, I can stay, I just need something else to change. Im in the middle, awaiting my enext four years, and still remembering my last four. Its trapping, and I need some release. That is my reflection.

Its okay for change. I look at what I have inside me, and I feel like I blew out my own flame. what used to be me, has turned quite grey recently. I am a shell of what I could be. Ive been to hell and back again. Days and nights have meshed together in desperation to direct my mind on other things other than what I should have been working through. I cant cry, somehow my body knows if I let the drips of pain seep out, I will truly lose it. I CAN LOVE. Somehow I forgot I could do that. YOU CAN LOVE TOO. This world is full of things that I can never fully understand. Why people fall out of love, why people fall in love. How you can lose patience or hope. I am a victim, but I dont know my attacker. Why cant things find resolution?