i cannot answer you tonight in small portions.
torn apart by stormy loves gate, i float
like a phantom facedown in a well where
the cold dark water reflects vague half-builtstars
and trades all our affection, touching, sleeping
together for tribunal distance standing like
a drowned train just beyond a pile of eskimo
skeletons.
I've been doing some mature thinking (not XXX 'mature'; rather, let's-be-serious 'mature') and have, consequently, set myself some goals. Unfortunately, they are achievable but improbable goals, and will most likely end in definitive failure. All I can hope for is the best that I can do, but I'm scared of receiving a letter telling me that even my best was not good enough. My alibi has been "oh, I didn't even bother trying" for so long that I don't even know what 100% effort feels like anymore. I was arrogant, and now I am beginning to doubt myself. This feels horrible, and I am sad all the time. But I'm not allowed to be sad, because people worry and wonder if there is something worse happening in my life. No, there is nothing dreadful, I'm just egocentric and self-pitying.
