All those unopened cans of soup??? never used and now forever unusable??? like so many missed opportunities. I opened the cupboard often and I’ve seen them there. I was vaguely aware of the time going by, as I inevitabely aproached their respective due dates. What can I say, appetites can differ from one moment to the next. So they do, and so they have. As I grow older, I also become sleepier. The one night I cease to dream may very well be the night I never wake up. And what if? What then?

More importantly, though, is what will be in the meantime. That’s all that should really matter. Afterwards definitely won’t. But I find it hard to accept that what’s done is done–and what wasn’t done can’t be done now. Not in the same way, if at all. And so what’s left? What do I have to look forward to and which direction should I be facing? The more I expect, the less I experience. I can’t tell whether it’s simply a matter of perception or if I’m just trying too hard. Sure, it can be said that I’m actually not trying hard enough. It’s a commonsense-sounding statement, but I wouldn’t necessarily know what that could possibly mean exactly. It can’t be claimed that I don’t care. Of course I care! What else could I do, if not that?

Seriously.

I’m sick of tasting blood. I’m sick of bleeding. Cats and tooth decay be damned!

Ohhh??? but I love kitties??? meow.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 3rd, 2000 at 5:08 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.