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'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
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##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #469 !!
#########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !!
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##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Dwelling On It" !!
##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Tasha !!
..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 1/27/99 !!
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And maybe someday I'll stop grasping shreds of myself from month
to month, because we all know in that changing day, which is the 30th or
31st, or 28th, or 29th, depending on the year, all I have left to grasp
are shreds. Because I change from month to month, and dwell on different
things, but then again, maybe my surroundings change and I have to dwell
on something different to avoid people telling me I live in the past.
But the past seems like such a better thing to live in, because the past
can't hurt you anymore. And the present hurts you, and the future has
you anticipating being hurt, but all the past has is the ability to
force-feed you memories of being hurt, and those are just dull, aching
throbs when remembered. And last month I was hated, this month I'm
lonely, and next month I could be fulfilled, but I have no clue. Because
next month is December, and it comes with Christmas and the end of the
year, and it's more of a new beginning than every month is. But shouldn't
January be the new beginning? Or maybe the new beginning should be near
the middle of November, my birthday. But my birthday is really more
toward the end of November, depending on how you look at it. I guess
you could be considered a pessimist or an optimist in that sense, but it's
just days. November holds no glasses which can be half full or half empty.
November just holds me, and sometimes I feel completely empty, or
so full that not everything will fit anymore. And both are like the same
inadequate feeling that you're either not good enough to hold anything or
not good enough to hold everything, and I don't know which I'd rather be.
All I know is that I would rather just be without having to decide what I
am going to be. To just be, and float through life without having this
need to analyze all and dissect everything until it holds no more meaning
than a piece of grass. A piece of grass after I've already analyzed it
blowing in the wind and dying, of course.
I don't know why I am writing this, other than it seemed to be more
logical than just thinking it. And I know that when I'm done I won't be
happy with it, and I wouldn't be happy with just a thought. Because I'm
not happy with anything, and I'm not sure if that classifies me as a
perfectionist. I always thought perfectionists were neat, and I'm not,
but there I go again not allowing myself to just be. And no one else
seems to be allowing me to just be, so a normal person would figure that
was up to me, and even I can't do it.
And I'm not quite sure what brought all this on except that I fell
in love for a night. Last night. And I don't know if it was just for
last night, or if I am going to be dwelling in that love for the next
month. And it felt so good, I'm hoping I could, but I know things always
have that bad side, so maybe I don't want to dwell in it. Either way, I'm
going to dwell in something...and I guess that's better knowing that I
have the ability to dwell, even though dwelling isn't such a great thing
to do on a regular basis. But I guess I'm taking this whole thing for
granted.
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!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #469, WRITTEN BY: TASHA - 1/27/99 !!