I miss, miss, miss, miss you so, so, so very much. But that has nothing to do with who we are today.
Everything turns out excellent. Life is good. I have nothing to be sad about. Slept. From half past three after midnight. Woke at nine. Washed my hands and face; brushed my teeth. Breakfast. Internet. Messed about with no particular purpose. No more Glee episodes to watch. Playfully fought with the twins. Created Looklet fashion sets. Accessed the last Word document I was working on. Now forcing myself to write. Blogging. Coping with the inevitable headache.
As always, the minute I opened my eyes and adjusted my body to the thirst and sunshine, my brain began to spew words. Happens all the time. Every day (except probably when I have to teach). That very moment constitutes my prime writing time. Between subconscious dreaming and awareness, my mind intensifies. I don't have to think, and yet it works on its own. Too bad I must interrupt the process with food and water. Otherwise I would be starving.
Dwindling and deviating, morning became procrastination. Painless Internet clicking is so much easier than composition. The postmodern culture of laziness. And through it all, I thought of you. Be proud of yourself, won't you? These last two months have pushed me to be even more autonomous than I already am. I am fully liberated. There's nothing better than freedom. I'm fine being so alone.
What else can I do? When all my life loneliness is an everyday norm. The unequaled prominence year after year. I cannot complain. It's who I am. I don't need people; I just want one. But this one person doesn't need me, or want me around. An occasional contact. That's all there is to it. By occasional, it includes once-a-year chat, say... only after my friend died.
Here I am. Accepting that fact. What else must I do?
Saturday, February 11, 2012, 8:24 PM
Here I am so alone is from BBMak's song "Back Here".