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11/03/2005
Reckless
I don't know what to do with any of this. Once, I was sober and practical. I didn't let things faze me, and avoided drama like a gauche disease. But every once in a while I'd notice that everything tasted like sand. I'd freak out then, embark on self-important vision quests, question everything, tear my life apart. And once I'd worn myself out and thoroughly spooked everyone around me, I'd go back to being nice stable normal mundane.
I hated reverting. But now I have the opposite issue: I can't stop. I can't stop telling people what I really think, how I really feel, what I really want - tossing my bloody feelings around like hand grenades. It was one thing when it was just me stabbing myself in the back. But now I've started getting emotionally stabby on other people, springing stuff I'm too selfish to keep safely stowed. It hurts them. And it hurts me in the end, too.
And yet... It's still better than eating sand. Although not so much this week.
I hated reverting. But now I have the opposite issue: I can't stop. I can't stop telling people what I really think, how I really feel, what I really want - tossing my bloody feelings around like hand grenades. It was one thing when it was just me stabbing myself in the back. But now I've started getting emotionally stabby on other people, springing stuff I'm too selfish to keep safely stowed. It hurts them. And it hurts me in the end, too.
And yet... It's still better than eating sand. Although not so much this week.
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by Chris @ 9:16 PM