tales from an ordinary world

2002-09-08

"we are constantly on trial
it's a way to be free."
smog.

I place restrictions upon myself all the time, hoping that each little thing will make me a better person. I feel as if my lack of discipline is, or will be, my undoing - I've been too fortunate, I've had it too easy, and it'll all catch up with me before too long.

I want to do the right thing, but it always seems better to maintain my silence than to annoy, offend or upset. "In order to get along, you have to go along," and so I do. I seem to have become some kind of human sponge - I mop up people's worries, fears and pain - but now I need somebody to come and squeeze me out, so the cycle can start over.

There is no end.
There is no "afterwards".

I wish I could keep this up.