The world may never know

(how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop)
And I may never know if I'm insane or just a whiner.

I spent my entire Philosphy class writing out my feelings today.
Trying to sort through my life because frankly I'm scared.
Scared that I will never be happy--satisfied, I should say.
Scared that I have been walking around in someone else's shoes for so long that my feet have changed shape.
Scared that even if I could change the things I think need changing that I still wouldn't like my world.
I feel like I am the branch of a tree, lying on the shore and the waves have crashed over me so many times, so forcefully, that I am smooth and soft and my bark is all gone (but fortunately I still bite. ha.) and I am lost.
Because...being Me hasn't really worked out so well.
"Me" doesn't stand a chance against this raging storm.
"Me" gets lost and muted and smudged.

I'm fine.
I've been fine for weeks now.
The problem isn't that I'm hurting or sad or even scared, really.
The problem is that I am doing the best that I can and sometimes it's still not good enough and I just know that it never will be.
Square peg, round hole.

Meanwhile, the sun is shining and the weekend is here!
Oh, glorious, early fall weekends!
Tomorrow the Krishna temple is having a big celebration that I'm taking my kids to.
I've always heard that it's a lot of fun, so I'll let ya know.
(I just wasted ten minutes searching for the pictures I took of the temple a few years ago, but I can't find them. I did, however, find some very naughty pictures that were sent to me by appreciative readers years ago. Boy, those were the days. Look what's become of me!! Siiiigh.)

I am reading a book with some modern interaction with some of Shakespeare's fairies, of which the moral is: our desires only cause us pain.
So true, so true.
I have the tormented soul of an artist, but without the art to show for it.
Lucky me!!

Fuck.
This post blows.

I'm not cooking dinner tonight, either.
I just thought I would share that with you.
(and yes, that was said defiantly)

Why am I always searching...?
Or better yet, what the fuck am I searching for?
I don't even know.
I just want to stop searching.
I want to start over.

I wish I had never met anyone who filled my soul with light and love because then I wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that it is possible and yet...unattainable.

I know I am probably coming off like the bi-polar queen of the world here, but I don't feel like my moods are swinging.
I feel like I am in stasis.
I feel like the giddiness of yesterday's post and the bitterness of today's post are exactly the same flavor.
Same texture, same color, same aroma!
I don't feel different inside.
Just expressing different thoughts.
Or...rather, yesterday I talked about Stuff and today I am talking about feelings.

I want so badly to read myself as a character in a book that I am constantly scrambling to step outside myself for the distant view rather than just Being.
I wish I could take a pill that would make me stop wanting things I'll never have.
I wish someone could look into my world and tell me, absolutely, what to do.
I wish someone could reformat my soul, and install windows on it...so much simpler, so many fewer bugs.

Or maybe I am sad
because once again
I am saying good bye to a friend.
For the last time.
It takes me a while to catch on, but I've finally realized it's what the friend needs.
So the friend shall be released.
I will not bother the friend again.