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2001-10-21 / 4:37 a.m. ~Don't read this one, nothing to look at here, keep moving, that's right, this is just angsty and depressing, skip it entirely~ Look what time it is. 4:37 a.m., according to my PC's clock. It runs fast, it's really probably 4:30, but it is a.m., it is late, or early, depending on if you're a farmer or a fisherman or just a person who slept too late in the afternoon and so now seems like it should really only be 11:00 or so, or even earlier. Things are skewed, and everything is dark, like from the depths of people, from their darkest places. My site meter stats took me to someone's guestbook I had signed, and from there to someone else's diary, one I never read, and from her diary to a very dark entry indeed, one about a woman coming upon a horrible scene, a scene that was from a movie, but it was real, a man beating a woman, holding her on the ground and beating her while she begged him to stop. Okay, it was well written, it gave me chills, especially to think that it was real. She really saw that, she really came home and saw that happening, but maybe I didn't want to see it too. And I did, the way she wrote it, I did see it. I watched a really horrible movie a little while ago. I think the whole time I was watching it I was also debating whether or not to change the channel, and I'm not sure why I stayed with it, except to say, WOW, that was a really horrible movie, afterward. It was called "Sweet Angel Mine" and it was about a young man who is in Nova Scotia looking for his father who disappeared recently. He comes upon a beautiful young woman who lives with her insane and very angry mother in an old farmhouse. Crazy, crazy shit ensues, involving hammers, dead mothers, flashbacks, wild sex and hot wax poured on eyes to seal them shut. Yeah. Crazy shit, remote control in hand, me asking myself, "Why am I watching this?!", but watching anyway. I think it was because the actor playing the young man was attractive, had a British accent, I liked his character, and I wanted to see him have pretend/movie sex with the young woman. I saw it coming and wanted to see how they'd play it. You know, the whole good looking young man/drifter/searcher coming upon the attractive mother/daughter living in the country farmhouse, secrets abounding, kind of story, the kind that could go any way at all, but the music indicates it will be hammers, axes, hooks hanging from ceilings, creepy dead mothers, things like that. But you watch, for the sex. Before that was a good movie, an intense movie, but a good one, one I'd wanted to see. "Last Night" - came out in 1998, Canadian, story is about a group of people on the last night ever, the world is coming to an end, at midnight. We never know why, but it is daylight throughout, the earth is hurtling towards the sun or something, and they've known it's ending for two months. They've been preparing, but this is it, the end, they know full well, and everyone reacts differently. One man wants to fulfill every sexual desire he's ever had, and he basically does. One man just wants to be alone - he's been hurt since the death of his girlfriend, doesn't want human companionship, but he meets someone who changes his mind. And she just wants to get home to her husband and go through with their plans for a midnight murder/suicide. It's chilling though, at the end. Reminded me of that scene in that movie, can't remember the title right now....wait, "Deep Impact"?...where they know they're going to die, the tidal wave is going to wipe them out, and the woman, Tea Leoni, stands on the shore with her father right before the wave hits...the silence before they die....chilling. Everything feels like that now, today. Something has clearly taken me down to my own depths, rather suddenly, I think, and I feel like that, this feels like that silence before the final flash of light, the huge wave, or whatever, but I know it's just a temporary glitch in the overall scheme of things. It's sort of a sudden onset depression possibly exacerbated by recent world events, but possibly just because of me and my placement in my own life. Where I am now, where I'm not, feeling lost and alone. And I have such strong awareness of its ending, I know this too shall pass, but while I am here it's hard to be anywhere else. Nothing feels quite right, and I think I long for it to. I want to be normal, I want to be doing things, accomplishing things, feeling happy, inside myself, being productive and creative. I want a happy home, a clean home, I want to take care of everything which needs taking care of. A little while ago I walked into my bedroom, just to turn on the light, and the TV, for comfort, switching from living room to bedroom, and I felt dead, as if I were a walking ghost. It was just a moment, but it was overwhelming. Do I need to write it again? Do I need to remind me that this won't last too much longer, that tomorrow/today is another day, the sun will shine, the birds will sing, the children will play, bombs are not dropping, not here, I am not a refugee seeking asylum at some borderline, no, all is well here, I can get up and be a capitalist, a consumer, an American. I should be happy. I am free. And I am not alone, I have me. Me, Myself and I, there are three of me, and I live with the two cats I love more than anything, what more do I need? Why the desire for more, more, more? It's so unnecessary. I have everything. This is stupid, but writing this has made me cry. I don't even know what to call this entry, don't know how to give it a name, and to think of someone stumbling across it while searching for something on the internet makes me kind of ill. To think of anyone reading it besides me feels like an invasion. But it's here, because I need to put it somewhere, and I hardly ever use pens and paper anymore. It's 5:00 now, and maybe I'll go watch TVLand or something, maybe another movie is on, something not quite so bleak, and maybe later, after I've slept a bit, I'll get up and everything will seem different. Light has to fill the dark spaces sooner or later. I have found strength within myself before, always. It's all up to me. Cost of the War in Iraq
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