i could possibly be the only person in the library right now. possibly. or, it may be that i simply can't even process the presence of anyone else. gwen stefani is bouncing through my headphones, and i drown myself in the senseless lyrics, facebook, and random google searches.
i just don't want to think about what i should be doing anymore. i so very, very tired tonight.
i have more guilt in my bones than any catholic. it's almost inexpressible. it tinges every breath and step, every thought and mindless word i speak. it's soaked deep down into every nerve, and i don't even know how to wring it out.
all i can think of tonight is that i finally need to start talking again. this is me, writing, with no particular aim, in the fashion that is now so popular. i don't intend for this to be some sort of cute newsletter, or political ramble, this is not where i'll post great knitting patterns or my opinions on breastfeeding. all of the above could happen here, or something completely different.
simply and slowly, the words pour out through my fingers and onto the blankness of this screen. somewhere between the wrenching pain in my heart and the muddle in my head are words to say.
