Time Heals All Wounds.. And Then Kills the Patient
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Morning
Morning
Sat Sep 22 06:20:11 2001
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There is a fish in my heart.
It woke me up.
Not a heart episode, just an odd beat.

I was starting to go to sleep, and I got to wondering, who knows me the best of the people I know? To wit, who do I feel understands my personality, positions, and how I likely would react to theoretical situations? Hmm. My family doesn't actually know me that well. A long, but shallow cut. Perhaps Martha -- we talked endlessly and I hid nothing. But that was some time ago -- have I changed? Has she forgotten? A short but very deep cut, a bleeding scar. Perhaps Jason -- we have known each other for a few years, and have talked about many things, but there are a fair number of things that I don't think I've ever decided to talk to him about, sometimes with reason, sometimes without. A moderately long cut, slanted. Hmm. There are some others, Amanda, Dawon, Lorie, and more distantly August, Quealy, and a few others. Is this vanity? Paranoia? Or was it something else? Sleep stirs so many thoughts.

I wonder if I could love again. I wonder if I should. I sometimes wonder if I even ever made a good lover. Perhaps I wouldn't make a suitable companion for anyone. Are my moods too shifting? Could I find someone to sing the songs I like to sing with me? Maybe I grow old on people. There are times which I think that I'd be nearly a perfect comapanion, but I then remember that I'm looking through my own eyes, judging by my values.

Last night (although I haven't slept yet) I went to the philosophy thing at Town Addiction. We had some fun discussions, but it wasn't as cohesive as it usually was -- there were about 8 people there instead of just the usual 4.

I like to say the word "why" a lot.

Hehe. Well, no, kind reader, you won't understand that sentence. Well, depending on who you are, you might. But that particular you is probably not reading this. Anyhow, yeah, it was a paraphrase, with particular relevance to the philosophy thing -- quite often a particular two of us end up destroying the insufficuently precise arguments of the third with repeated requests for justification and clarification.

I do not feel like sharing any more of my thoughts with you, netdiary.

At least for now. Goodnight.