keep pressing the snooze, fall asleep

2004-09-16, 10:57 a.m.

waining interest in the things that tie me to identity, i wonder what life would be like without a title. no name to be called by, i could see people walking through me, unable to point me out in a crowd. a pang of guilt surfaces, you should always be called something; you. a name. a gender. its an urge to separate us from each other, when we are so similar that it pains me.

yes, the face can break molds (your face was not cast by any normal hands, beautiful complexity that i fail to translate in words or with paint) and become individual, composition never changes though. your water is my water, and the oxygen in your blood is 16 billion years old.

im looking at this paper with blue ink that scrambles what i wrote, making circles into segments of a line, dotting around one letter: a. im holding down all the thoughts that bring on addiction; to another person outside myself, these synapses are dangerous criminals, armed to the teeth with guns and ammo. i need to watch myself, as i remember walking this cliff's edge, and i remember the finality of falling, wearing a smile while the wind whipped through my hair and into my ears. is a complementary relationship possible?