Dearest Josephine,
You said: It seems our conversations lack the concrete.
I said: I do not understand what you mean.
You said: You always speak in riddles.
I said: We all speak in codes.
You said: For you -- morse code, or some other intangible, nearly obsolete language.
I said: Would you rather I told you -- today I went to the grocery store. I almost bought eggs but then I decided to buy tomatoes and pre-packaged beets.?
You said: Why did you not buy eggs.
I said: Because I did not want to buy cheese and bread.
You said: I'm framing this conversation.
I said: It's already been manipulated into a square.
You said: I want a rectangle - squares are too uniform.
I said: And two long lines and two short ones is not?
You said: Tell me about your evening.
I said: You're not asking the right questions.
You said: Tell me something that you fear.
I said: Intimacy.
You said: Tell me about your parent's divorce.
I said: Yes, now you understand.
We must catalogue these snippets. I see an island growing between the rectangle and the significance of parting.
l.c.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Letter 25
Dear Josephine,
Yesterday was my half birthday. I have these celebrations to maintain a sense of self. Also birthdays are meant for living.
I feel myself slowly morphing again and this terrifies me as I am happy with this stagnant person. Lately I've been emotional and self-analyzing. Even silence has a deeper meaning.
Alfred Lord Tennyson said: "Come, my friends, 'tis not too late to seek a newer world." Here is the fear- am I not using time to seek out something greater? Four walls and billing codes confine me. I need to get a prescription for sleeping pills - or even over-the-counter - as I can't sleep anymore due to anxiety and all my dreams are work related. I think I've gotten 3 hours of sleep per evening for the past two weeks. I feel like a zombie.
In other news, I'm trying to find a babysitting or tutoring job. We will see how that pans out.
I don't know what else to write. I read "The Weight: The Myth of Atlas and Heracles" by J. Winterson and loved it. She writes: "I keep telling the story again and though I find different exits, the walls never fall. My life is paced out - here and here and here - I can alter it's shape but I can't get beyond it. I tunnel through, seem to find a way out, but the exits lead nowhere. I'm back inside, leaning on the limits of myself."
yours in the theoretical,
l.c.
Yesterday was my half birthday. I have these celebrations to maintain a sense of self. Also birthdays are meant for living.
I feel myself slowly morphing again and this terrifies me as I am happy with this stagnant person. Lately I've been emotional and self-analyzing. Even silence has a deeper meaning.
Alfred Lord Tennyson said: "Come, my friends, 'tis not too late to seek a newer world." Here is the fear- am I not using time to seek out something greater? Four walls and billing codes confine me. I need to get a prescription for sleeping pills - or even over-the-counter - as I can't sleep anymore due to anxiety and all my dreams are work related. I think I've gotten 3 hours of sleep per evening for the past two weeks. I feel like a zombie.
In other news, I'm trying to find a babysitting or tutoring job. We will see how that pans out.
I don't know what else to write. I read "The Weight: The Myth of Atlas and Heracles" by J. Winterson and loved it. She writes: "I keep telling the story again and though I find different exits, the walls never fall. My life is paced out - here and here and here - I can alter it's shape but I can't get beyond it. I tunnel through, seem to find a way out, but the exits lead nowhere. I'm back inside, leaning on the limits of myself."
yours in the theoretical,
l.c.
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