Tags: labyrinth



I'm updating from my bed, because I'm super tired and want to let everyone know I'm doing good and everything is getting better. More or less.


I am reading, She's Come Undone, by Wally Lamb. So far it is lovely, I am only on chapter three but it is the only book I have been able to actually not become bored of in the first twenty pages in a while. Nicholle brought it for me the day of our wedding.

I just want to find my salvation still. I am inching towards...brink, I suppose is the best way to say it. I am going to have to choose, if I want to become stagnant or if I want to let the life in. It's ironic the way I see it, letting the life in is so close to letting the life out depending on how you really think about it. Hm.


it has hit me. i am re-reading the time traveler's wife by audrey niffenegger and this hit me.

"clare, i want to tell you, again, i love you. our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that i could ever trust. tonight i feel that my love for you has more density in this world than i do, myself: as though it could linger on after me and surround you, keep you, hold you."

"clare: it's hard being left behind. i wait for henry, not knowing where he is, wondering if he's okay. it's hard to be the one who stays.
i keep myself busy. time goes faster that way.
i go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. i take walks. i work until i'm tired. i watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all winter. everything seems simple until you think about it. why is love intensified by absence?
long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. now i wait for henry. he vanishes unwillingly, without warning. i wait for him. each moment that i wait feels like a year, an eternity. each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. through each moment i can see infinite moments lined up. why has he gone where i cannot follow?

henry: i hate to be where she is not, when she is not. and yet, i am always going, and she cannot follow."

a.s. byatt's - posession

"what is it? my dear?"
"ah, how can we bear it?"
"bear what?"
"this. for so short a time. how can we sleep this time away?"
"we can be quiet together, and pretend - since it is only the beginning - that we have all the time in the world."
"and every day we shall have less. and then none."
"would you rather, therefore, have nothing at all?"
"no. this is where i have always been coming to. since my time began. and when i go from here, this will be the mid-point, to which everything ran, before, and from which everything will run. by now, my love, we are here, and we are now, and those other times are running elsewhere."


I ordered new yellow vans a week ago and they came this morning, they fit fine and I like them but I'm indifferent towards having them. My new phone case came today, also it's nice it fits, but I am indifferent towards having it. I am hungry but I haven't had anything that I've been able to really keep down since Thursday. I haven't gotten a decent nights sleep either, but I am not tired.

I feel like a zombie; I feel like the walking dead. It's like I feel everything and nothing at the same time. I don't know what to do. This is more than just feeling grey. This is so overwhelming. I am here...but I am not. I don't know where I am I just know I don't want to be here. Everything and nothing are the same.

Everything has been tainted.