2001-05-19 - 8:20 a.m.

'Woman much missed
how you call to me, call to me
saying that now you are not as you were
when you'd changed from the one who was all to me...'

I need to demonstrate to myself that I still love her. I have to hold onto this idea of permanence. I need to know that I can move, that I can effect and be affected. I want my malaise to have but one tributary. I can only bear one cross at a time.

'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...'

Why am I destined to remain wordless? Not only wordless - now I am being punished with distraction. I'm on an intellectual whirly-do that I can't stop. I can't concentrate. I can't even desire in specificity.

If only I knew that there was a plan. I belong in the army. I just want to surrender myself over to a force greater than I, who am just a miniature of life. All possibilities, all steps, all processes, all intentions, all the permutations of existence shall never be within arm's-reach.

I am tired. I am tired. I only want to write. I cannot tonight. Why can't you be here, beside me? I don't even want to touch you. I just 'want' your voice. That your word like a mist could settle over me, and that you could nurse me back the banks of a beginning; thus is my dream. But glancing upon me has made you mute.

troilus

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