Something muted in my head told me to write today. But it remains muted (waiting for blueberry pancakes).
The corner here is gray and the restaurant lights float like greenish gold orbs reflected over the creeping traffic. Even the sky is smoked... And I? I am tired today... in an "early eve of Winter" kind of way. Resigned to the dullness after the excitement of memory last night.
B and I are a reminder of all things possible that will never be realized. My mind finds comfort crawling to those corners.
Today is a navy blue sweatpants day. But I am in jeans.
I found a lot in the library today-- dusty paths that may never go further. (More kinetic, no-- I mean "potential" energy and dust...)
People keep stopping to read the menu posted outside the window near my head. They hover into shadows on my hops and I feel tickled with paranoia and suffocated.
6:00 PM
The sky is still gray. Muted. Muted as my thoughts, as my dreams for the future and shadowed even as the cobwebbed trails of the present.
Pancakes have arrived!
Sunday, October 13, 2002
Saturday, October 12, 2002
New Journal (The Confessor)
From The Twenties, Edmund Wilson
"Beside the read stood the dry skeletons of Queen Anne's vanished lace; the bleached crests of the thistles had commenced to scatter and the milkweed pods were splitting and strewing the air with spun silver. The air, which was not yet harsh with winter filled the throat like cold wine. And though the golden vesture of the tress had begun to wear thin and dull, they gave the landscape everywhere a toned and faded richness. At night, the frosty moon filled up the world, as if by some liquid, with a bluish gray light which just seemed to bring out the green of the grass with a faint silver luminosity, and, int eh morning, one saw on the fields the whitish bloom of the frost."
"Beside the read stood the dry skeletons of Queen Anne's vanished lace; the bleached crests of the thistles had commenced to scatter and the milkweed pods were splitting and strewing the air with spun silver. The air, which was not yet harsh with winter filled the throat like cold wine. And though the golden vesture of the tress had begun to wear thin and dull, they gave the landscape everywhere a toned and faded richness. At night, the frosty moon filled up the world, as if by some liquid, with a bluish gray light which just seemed to bring out the green of the grass with a faint silver luminosity, and, int eh morning, one saw on the fields the whitish bloom of the frost."
Friday, July 5, 2002
Soul Pain
Don't forget--
If he never meant to hurt me, why isn't he stopping?
If I matter to him, then why didn't he offer to take down that stupid profile, stop meeting women in my apartment and let this heal for a while?
If he loves me, why is he going to continue to do something that hurts me?
God, I want to ask him that so badly. I want to ask him, but I also want to heal, and I'm not sure what good asking him that would do.
Today is awful. I haven't been able to breathe from the moment I woke up. The Tube was unbearable and I don't want to get back on. But I have too much shit to carry to keep looking in the Museum.
I feel like my soul hurts-- something at the core that is just radiating the pain out in rings to every other part of me. But at the same time, I feel empty-- like I don't even have a heart. My heart is with him still and he's ignoring me. Not even the tiaras made me happy. I feel so desperately alone without him. Dr. G. said to think about what went wrong, but I don't know what I did wrong!
I loved him with everything that I have. I feel like killing "us" is the same as killing me and I feel myself dying inside. This pain feels like the pain of dying and it won't let up. Not even for as second... And I can't breathe.
You're still here
Beside me every day
Because I know you by heart.
One of the reasons this is so unbearable is because when I'm with people, I have to hold everything in and the tension chokes me. When I'm alone, the tears and the pain overwhelm me.
If he never meant to hurt me, why isn't he stopping?
If I matter to him, then why didn't he offer to take down that stupid profile, stop meeting women in my apartment and let this heal for a while?
If he loves me, why is he going to continue to do something that hurts me?
God, I want to ask him that so badly. I want to ask him, but I also want to heal, and I'm not sure what good asking him that would do.
Today is awful. I haven't been able to breathe from the moment I woke up. The Tube was unbearable and I don't want to get back on. But I have too much shit to carry to keep looking in the Museum.
I feel like my soul hurts-- something at the core that is just radiating the pain out in rings to every other part of me. But at the same time, I feel empty-- like I don't even have a heart. My heart is with him still and he's ignoring me. Not even the tiaras made me happy. I feel so desperately alone without him. Dr. G. said to think about what went wrong, but I don't know what I did wrong!
I loved him with everything that I have. I feel like killing "us" is the same as killing me and I feel myself dying inside. This pain feels like the pain of dying and it won't let up. Not even for as second... And I can't breathe.
You're still here
Beside me every day
Because I know you by heart.
One of the reasons this is so unbearable is because when I'm with people, I have to hold everything in and the tension chokes me. When I'm alone, the tears and the pain overwhelm me.
Thursday, July 4, 2002
What He Said
"Hi. I am so very sorry it's ending like this too. I've made too many mistakes to mention, so I'd just like you to know that I never ever meant to hurt you. I have never and will never knowingly disrespect or hurt you. I care so much about you. I worry how you're doing over there. It breaks my heart thinking that you're alone with--"
Friday, June 28, 2002
Scammed!
So, I guess I need to start organizing my thoughts for my "hand-in" journal, but I'm still not sure exactly what I want to say. I suppose I should first catch up with what's been going on.
On Wednesday after class, I set out to walk towards "Jack the Ripper" territory, but I was not very organized and only got as far as Holborn. I walked from there to Covent Garden where I went into a bar across from the Royal Drury Lane Theater to wait for Tipu. There, I met a Scottish guy named David who cried and convinced me to give him money. I feel like a moron and part of me wants him to stand me up on Sunday while part of me really wants him to show.
Anyway, after that, I saw My Fair Lady, which was great, but I thought Eliza could have been a better singer. She wasn't so good singing over her break.
Yesterday we went to Greenwich --to the Maritime Museum and the Observatory. It was a nice trip, but the weather was too gray. Jackie Chan was there filming some movie...
Oh-- lunch is here. I will pause to eat. (And to read a little Robinson Crusoe!)
On Wednesday after class, I set out to walk towards "Jack the Ripper" territory, but I was not very organized and only got as far as Holborn. I walked from there to Covent Garden where I went into a bar across from the Royal Drury Lane Theater to wait for Tipu. There, I met a Scottish guy named David who cried and convinced me to give him money. I feel like a moron and part of me wants him to stand me up on Sunday while part of me really wants him to show.
Anyway, after that, I saw My Fair Lady, which was great, but I thought Eliza could have been a better singer. She wasn't so good singing over her break.
Yesterday we went to Greenwich --to the Maritime Museum and the Observatory. It was a nice trip, but the weather was too gray. Jackie Chan was there filming some movie...
Oh-- lunch is here. I will pause to eat. (And to read a little Robinson Crusoe!)
Wednesday, June 26, 2002
Heartbreak
Dear B,
I am laying here reading in bed, tyring to read and aching from how much I miss you. I am listening to Lord of the Rings and it made me remember our recent trip to Sunnyside. I don't know how I can be happy without you when I was only ever happy with you. You don't know how much I wish you were here and how I feel choked with tears. I wonder if you are thinking of me at all and what you meant when you said "goodbye."
love,
ig
I am laying here reading in bed, tyring to read and aching from how much I miss you. I am listening to Lord of the Rings and it made me remember our recent trip to Sunnyside. I don't know how I can be happy without you when I was only ever happy with you. You don't know how much I wish you were here and how I feel choked with tears. I wonder if you are thinking of me at all and what you meant when you said "goodbye."
love,
ig
Tuesday, June 25, 2002
Arrival in London
So, here I am in London, with the overwhelming urge to write again. And I can only suppose that it's because I've lost B. Or, at least because he's not here for me to talk to, and as far as I can tell, no one here is on exactly the same wavelength as I am, although they all seem very nice.
I am sitting here inside a Starbucks inside a Borders and feeling kind of guilty about it. But, it's not entirely my fault. I needed to find both a bathroom and a place to sit and read Heart of Darkness and I knew this place would offer both.
Class this morning was really so interesting (although I don't feel like repeating the ideas right here) and I think I am going to really enjoy it, except for the part about applying it to our curriculum. I'm not really sure I understand how to write a curriculum still, and that task seems rather daunting.
I feel like I want to and need to spend a lot of time on this trip alone-- wandering and reflecting and exploring the parts of London that I want to see at my own pace, but I don't want to be anti-social. I think it's going to be hard to find the right balance.
I miss B so much that it's like a dull, deep ache in me and I just want to curl up in his arm and let go of these tears. But somehow I doubt that I will ever be able to let go of these tears.
London is the city most like NY that I've ever been to. I think I expected it to more like Paris... more like my own preconceived notions of "European." But we have taken so much from British culture and they from us, that it's quite understandable how the lines blur.
One other interesting point is that I'm not sued to being "othered," whereas here, anything I say gives away the fact that I am not just a foreigner, but specifically an American. It's strange to wear such a tangible and identifiable identity marker. I can't say that I sand out visually though. There are all ethnicities and fashions here...
Anyway, I need to do a little reading and the ice cubes in my coffee are melting, so I will close for now...
I am sitting here inside a Starbucks inside a Borders and feeling kind of guilty about it. But, it's not entirely my fault. I needed to find both a bathroom and a place to sit and read Heart of Darkness and I knew this place would offer both.
Class this morning was really so interesting (although I don't feel like repeating the ideas right here) and I think I am going to really enjoy it, except for the part about applying it to our curriculum. I'm not really sure I understand how to write a curriculum still, and that task seems rather daunting.
I feel like I want to and need to spend a lot of time on this trip alone-- wandering and reflecting and exploring the parts of London that I want to see at my own pace, but I don't want to be anti-social. I think it's going to be hard to find the right balance.
I miss B so much that it's like a dull, deep ache in me and I just want to curl up in his arm and let go of these tears. But somehow I doubt that I will ever be able to let go of these tears.
London is the city most like NY that I've ever been to. I think I expected it to more like Paris... more like my own preconceived notions of "European." But we have taken so much from British culture and they from us, that it's quite understandable how the lines blur.
One other interesting point is that I'm not sued to being "othered," whereas here, anything I say gives away the fact that I am not just a foreigner, but specifically an American. It's strange to wear such a tangible and identifiable identity marker. I can't say that I sand out visually though. There are all ethnicities and fashions here...
Anyway, I need to do a little reading and the ice cubes in my coffee are melting, so I will close for now...
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