paperback writer
gravity

"..but I hope it's not a boy because boys grow up to be perverts."

"..I want to ask him...I'm just not sure though, because I know I don't have it in me to repeat all of last year."

"I think I invariably hurt his feelings because I refuse to show mine."

"..So basically, I'm just waiting for him to hurt me, and he's just waiting for me to hurt him. This is a terrible way to live."

But that's exactly how we live: in perpetual terror of getting burned. Again. Because once you've been caught offguard and weak, you're not liable to want to repeat it. Ever. Even, sometimes, at the expense of those who really do care about us.

It's just baffling that we are all so jaded before even our twentieth year. All of humanity. Just one giant wound to be nursed.

January is about catharsis.


The current mood of bratnatch at www.imood.com
FIN. 1:58 p.m., Thursday, Jan. 12, 2006

ink :: graphite

flipping pages
prose
fresh
faded
prelude
profile
etcetera
interact
take note
livejournal
credit
diaryland
A work in Aberration.