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Wednesday, Feb. 11, 2004 / 1:29 p.m. ~If Only � Needy~ A brief moment here at work wherein I�m not being watched, when my new Supervisor is not coming over to see what I�m �working on�. I think she�s not here actually. (I just shared with Penelope some of what I came away with after listening to Dennis Kucinich last night, encouraged her to vote in the Primary � so many people want to wait until November, but we have the chance, the privilege, to choose who that nominee will be, the one up against the worst excuse for a �leader� this country has ever had the misfortune to have in office.) I�m exhausted. Another night of five hours sleep, if that. I love to sleep, but now, lately, I want more time, and the only way to get that is to stay up late. Not a good solid choice, but there it is. I want to start at the beginning, but I think that goes back to December. I think that was when I wanted more, that was when I wanted to socialize, wanted to meet new people, and I opened myself to possibilities, exposed myself to situations I�d not placed myself in for years. This was heartbreaking, ultimately, for it went horribly awry, and I�ve had to overcome so much disappointment with it all. Then the one crazy night happened, the night which now seems like it was only a dream, and it took me farther away from the pain, made me feel hopeful and like anything could happen, if I got out, if I allowed it. One week later I was feeling the physical ramifications, the sore throat which disabled me, then the cold, and two weeks after that began, the gestation, the taking hold, it�s on its way out, I feel like me again, which only means I want more again. Staying in bed trying to feel better is no longer enough. I feel better, I want out. This, after taking Friday off and spending the entire day in bed, sleeping to the effects of Nyquil, waking only when Hermione called, talking an hour with her, an hour. Then Brent, and connecting whilst feeling so wholly disconnected. An entire weekend spent alone, and coming in to work Monday to being asked, �Are you feeling better?� and, �How are you feeling?�, and all I could say was, �No�, and �I am so sick�. Kukla asking, �What are you taking, are you taking anything, did you see a doctor?�, because that is what she does, for everything, a rush for antibiotics, a rush to the doctor. I said, �No. I don�t �take anything�, I don�t �go to the doctor�� (and I know antibiotics are for bacterial infections, not viral), and the look on her face was priceless. She was aghast. The same day, later, I felt like myself again, I hydrated my sick body, I felt alive again, I felt productive, and then yesterday a brief relapse, coughing until I choked, blowing a bloody nose. Last night feeling so positive, then thinking about what I don�t have, what I wanted so recently and was denied, and getting momentarily lost in that. Love, sex, it�s not for me, it won�t happen for me, I can�t want it, it hurts too much. Either, both, I�m meant to be alone, I have to be strong. Add to that, seeing my old friend after all these years, and it didn�t seem so very long, but so much has changed for him, his whole life, and I am exactly the same, in the exact same place, despite any changes, despite the activism, the trying, the attempts to change the world, the writing, it�s still me doing what I�ve always done, or not doing a thing, lost in stasis. I think I want some semblance of �normalcy�, I think I want to hang on to what I know, to what�s familiar, but I never know what that is anymore. And I get lost in my parents� lives, the past, photos, searching, like there�s something there, just outside my reach, and if only I could put my hands on it, grasp it and hold on, just wanting to hold on, to something. It�s sleep deprivation at this point, and so much change in the midst of staying exactly the same. How is this even possible? It�s hard to run into old friends, people I shut out years ago, and it�s hard to be somewhere and think I see someone, and be reminded that I want it to be that someone, and think about what all that means, the wanting. I can�t even put any of it into cohesive thought anymore. MS Word says this is now page two. I stop here. And add that the Moon was in Dennis�s sign last night, Libra, and it was his night, and if only more could have heard his message, if only more people had been there, if only more people would wake up, listen, open themselves to the change that needs to come about on such a large scale. I�ll be back to �normal� soon, whatever that is, but now I feel so needy. (I even sent email to the painter last night � and I don�t know why � I suppose I don�t want to let him go.) Cost of the War in Iraq
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