A Clever Title

I think about you every day. Just so you know. And yes, I am talking about you.

Part Two of Intake History will continue another time. I just need to ramble tonight.

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It's early morning and of course I haven't slept. Outside the window is some kind of owl. I can hear it. Something about the presence of owls feels spiritual to me, in this urban wasteland, like inexplicably finding a smooth river rock at the bottom of clothes pile. It doesn't belong. It speaks of something foreign and natural in a largely artificial environment. Something deep inside you that you've forgotten long before you were born.

Owls make me wistful I suppose. I get a similar feeling when I'm driving and a deer or coyote skirts by my path. I feel as if I've encountered a ghost.

The only light in the room is the faint glow of computer LEDs and the shine of my laptop monitor. It casts forgiving shadows on my arms that would lead me to believe I am much smaller than the mirror would report. For now, that is enough.

I am visiting TR. We rarely see each other now that we are living on opposite ends of the state, for reasons complicated with choice and responsibility and willfulness. He is silently sleeping next to me, and I envy how easy he makes it look. My relationship with slumber is turbulent and bitter. We make poor bedfellows, pardon the pun. I either rejoice at the prospect of sleep as an escape from reality or shun the idea as it seems to quicken my inevitable encounter with another day. Tonight, I avoid sleep to avoid dreaming. I can't bear to relive my worst pains or unfulfilled wishes. Not tonight.

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I recently thought about how easy it would be to slip back into the mindset I had early on in the blog. A mindset that tapered away a little over one year ago. Part of me wants it back. It dawned on me that even if I became as obsessed and dedicated to the task, it would never be the same.

Everything has changed. The community is so different. Those who remain, like me, have moved beyond the thrill of watching numbers decrease, and instead see how little control they have left in the matter. Many who have gone are those I relied on for comfort, laughter, and hope. I've seen the same shift in my own life. My postgraduate course is finished and I can't find a job to reliably pay the bills. Of course, my mind races at the thought of simply returning to school. But the only thing that kept me from ripping out my hair was the companionship of my cohort (and even then, as witnessed by my multiple hospitalizations last year, it was not a guarantee). School was awful. The 'real world' is equally terrible.

I boast to others that I loathe people and shun socialization. It would seem, however, that I am completely lost without it.

Coming to this somber realization, I have little advice left for myself as to how I should progress. Where do I go from here? I welcome the day when my life is no longer a perpetual exercise in existential philosophizing nor a reluctant reliance on others.

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In other news, I still hate myself and think I'm useless, so at least some things don't change.