lately ive grown very bitter towards the smug pity of people who have time in their day to sit and ponder. they see strangers around them walking too quickly to work away their lives and amble home in a blurry daze to wait until sleep consumes them before something loud and rude wakes them up and it begins all over again. and they can just sit there and feel pleased. i know i am just jealous. it is in part an angry envy because that it how my life used to be. i dont have chance to think about anything anymore, i feel uneducated and very tired. but once in a while admist a cloud of meaningless numbers and empty food wrappers with the television on mute so i dont feel quite so alone, something jumps out at me and shouts "wake up please" and for a split second i do, but it is all so confusing that even constructing a blog and putting a few stray attempts at punctuation in it seems a bit too much. i cant really forge an adequate viewpoint in all of this really, because truthfully i belong to neither group and i guess it would be ridiculous to assume that anyone else really does either, but often it feels like such a clear divide that it is easy to let yourself think there is black and white, and no shades in between. every day i strike meaningless, interesting, shallow connections with people i dont know at all and i suppose it is important but sometimes it would be lovely just to sit in some grass somewhere with a stranger or otherwise and really... you know, engage in something.

in sleep is the only way...

i fell into a deep sleep this afternoon and while i was there, i turned round with tears in my eyes and found someone i hadnt seen for ten years standing at the door in my head.

she motioned to me, put her arm around me and walked me through an imagined city.

i asked her why she had come back for me and she said "we were never supposed to be sympathetic but i couldnt forget your big eyes"

...and i was so safe and unaware.

i knew my subconscious was just trying to offer me something i had lost in reality.

when i woke up it felt like i was drunk from my dreams and for a while i couldnt remember who and where i really was.

disorientated, i knew at the very least that i was pleased to have forgotten.

why am i so terrified of waking?