and i'm not invited.
and yet i don't care.
but i do.
it's when i don't care that i end up caring.
barb says when i say i don't care that it's not true.
the club wasn't that great to begin with.
but it was a club.
and for a moment i was in.
and it was great.
and i knew it at the time, too.
i just feel too much about things.
i'm tired of feeling.
i'm tired of people.
i'm tired of the daily grind.
you know, some people are sad and they don't want to live anymore.
like chuck who i see in my dreams though i never knew him well.
who i cried over. if only selfishly.
that's not how i react.
i'm sad because i want to live more.
i feel as if i am being hindered in my liveability.
that might not be a word.
i just want to live more.
fuller.
more real.
closer and more honest.
happier.
i was happier. i've been happier.
and it just isn't working out the way i planned it.
but that isn't true either. i didn't plan it.
i've never planned it.
but i guess i keep hoping for this thing.
and it's thwarted by different things.
it's just the same story every time.
and in the end, because i can't have the life i want
or the life i feel i'm made to be living,
i end up not desiring a whole lot of life at all.
i'm tired and i'd like to have a nap now.
don't disturb me until the end of this
stupid hot summer.
