got it through my thick skull

[fflo]

it's incredibly cold out there. tonight, literally. cold.

there's almost certainly nothing up any of those trees, but nonetheless, if it's the one you're barking up, it's the wrong one. whatever the hell it is you're trying to bark.

the u.s. postal service takes too long.

nothing means anything. life is hollow and meaningless. you might as well just go to bed.

it's freezing cold.

wham. that's 10, baby! (insert trash talk.) (references to dominoes.)

i've thought in the past that it being cold, out, all around, can make it feel as if just staying alive within it is a gut-level goal that will suffice, and even be grand, in its way. now i have apparently outlived that theory.

brrrr. stone cold sober, and stone cold, and sober. fuh. and i was just innocently watching the simpsons with cats, when --what's that? intruder alert? intruder alert?? intruder alert.... INTRUDER ALERT.

it's all inside my thick skull already. that's where it all comes from. but i'll stick with the subject line, cuz i want to remember. i want to remember with all the strength of the insulting tone of needing to get it through my thick skull. already.

and for Lent i'm giving up "anyway."

and for now i'm going to bed.

Comments

[shmizla.livejournal.com]

these days have a way of occluding the view of anything farther than the next day. sometimes even that far. it's exhausting.

[fflo.livejournal.com]

i don't know. i have a vision of days stretching ahead. that's part of the problem.

[shmizla.livejournal.com]

stretching in the same gloomy way?

[fflo.livejournal.com]

you got it, sister.

not to rain on your possible parades. i speak only of my own vision. the dead in the elevator, and today's touch, notwithstanding.

[shmizla.livejournal.com]

curious about the dead in the elevator and today's touch.

no parades scheduled yet.

perhaps i should have put it differently re: vision: that there is no memory of the pattern in which the weight lifts sometimes.

so that, in the best case scenario, it's not that you don't realize the vision is incorrect, but you see that its strength of conviction fluctuates, and you are not beholden to it as a vision of the outcome.