Out of Egypt:

I Typed For Miles

"One of the things that scares me most about life is that we are faced with the prospect of never not-being again." That pretty much says it right there.

I don't want to be as I am for all time. I don't want to be this flesh, these eyes, these arms, these hands. I want to be a thought, a hope, a scent carried on the breeze. I don't want to be burdened by myself.

I talked with John Gregor for hours last night about my experiences in the mental hospital and directly afterward. It was quite relieving in a way. Ever since that all happened, I have wondered whether all our rationality, all our responsibility can encapsulate this world, whether beneath the illusion of solidity all is in flux.

I'm listening to Elliott Smith's album "Roman Candle" as I type this and I'm struck by the tender beauty of it. It reminds me of an embrace of one I love, or a sculpture carved from ivory and glass. Inside my soul, I am warm.

I wrote you a comment too long to leave here so I put it on my blog instead. We oughta commiserate sometime.

Posted by: tuggy at January 18, 2004 12:41 AM