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Tuesday, April 15, 2003
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(grey morning): I am plagued by nightmares and this morning it hurts. Your movements mirror the ache I feel inside, a subtle danse of words and actions that play across my insecurities and make them thrum alive. Its tiring. And angry. That the one who brings me peace [my comfort] can be the spark which ignites so much pain.
I want to scream: at you, at fate, at the places inside me which make me feel less than what I am. My motivations shame me. Pain and insecurity drown my sensibilities and turn my aspirations to a sea of mud. I am become disgusting to myself & I can't yet find a way to mend.
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