well this got sad despite my attempts otherwise

so will it be like this forever? feeling as if i'm the busiest person i know, only to be proven that i'm wrong, that all of my friends are just as busy if not busier, plus they have lots of extra drama with unrequited love and such.

Oh, and i asked off the wrong weekend for thanksgiving, just an update on my blondeness...

And the brother i haven't seen in three years turned 15 this weekend, and i haven't sent the card yet, fearing it might return to me in shreds (as others have) and feeling a bit...guilty/unloved/restless.

If lives have continual, unanswerable questions mine wouldn't revolve around love, war, or peace. It would simply ask for the motives of the 6th grader that tore our lives from their anchor: a mutually loving family. It would ask for the whole long story, what led up to it, what was the final straw, what posessed him? Did, in fact, something posess him, my pentecostal sensiblities ask (though long abandoned)? These aren't mere curiosities, these are questions that sear my heart malgré le resistance de mon esprit. I suppose the reason i ask is because it seems utterly impossible that these questions should remain unanswered for the whole of my life. Surely someday someone will clue me into something. Right? I mean, is it reasonable to cling to this hope? Is there logic in raising these questions at all?

The truth is, i don't know, and i can't leave it at that. But unlike just about every other question my mind may form, the solution can't be found online. Jeeves doesn't know, Amazon doesn't have a book on it.

The only one that could explain it won't speak to me and no matter how much i pretend, my heart breaks over it.

- on 2003-11-10 at 9:14 p.m.

wilted - blooming