Secret Pop

Jan 20, 2004

The Urge to Resist

I want to remind myself that there was a great deal of laughter in today. That there were things that I had to write down and moments when I could barely keep the car on the road because the mirth was upon us so. I want to remind myself that the ups and the downs are all in the mix. That I fought back tears on occasion, this weekend, but some of the time, the tears were brought on by merriment. And some of the time, the tears were brought on by sneezes. That not all tears are the kind that need to be hidden or hated.

I heard that Andrew won't date Asian girls because they're ugly when they cry. I hate to afford him the courtesy of agreement, but I suppose he's right. Tears have always been a blight on my face. I avoid them obstinately.

I'm told by one in a colder climate that it's not cold enough in my world for the wearing of gloves. But my hands are small and they do get so chilly. Allow me this one indulgence, please. It will keep me from shivering all the time.

I'm also up very late again. It's been weeks of a weird sort of insomnia. Not the usual fitful sleep that has become the hallmark of my late-night tab-keeping. Just no sleep at all. Until it's morning and it becomes impractical to remain aslumber. It's a great cheat. And I frown at it. Combined with the return (again) of my nagging eye-twitch, this serves to remind me that harm does not always arrive in the form of a club to the head. You can hurt yourself plenty by just giving in. You can suffer at your own hand, and it can be a very gradual and insidious thing. And then, there you are with ailing health and a short attention span and no appetite and an eyeball that you would like to punch right out, and no one even notices that anything is amiss. Because you are always this way. And the world is bored of the telling.

My tummy also hurts.

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