...something, like you want to end it all, are you so sad you can't take it anymore?
 
People send me the most caring email. Everyday I open my mail and it's like an intervention by virtual friends. Little tiny Sims dancing on my keyboard pointing out what dance I should do and trying to push my buttons. So many people don't get it. I think what I write sometimes is very funny. I laugh a lot when I write. It gives me pleasure most of all I do, other than sleep. You should read all the words I don't make public. I have pages and pages in cheap composition books and files on my computer. Getting it all out, whether anyone ever reads it or not, brings me joy.
 
Watched the documentary, "The Pixies: Loud Quiet Loud" tonight and really got into it. There's a moment where Kim Deal's mom is talking to a camera being manned by Kim's twin sister Kelley and their mom says, and I'm paraphrasing here, "I'm glad Kim is touring. Gets her out of the house, she can use her poetry and stop sleeping all day." Kim is thoroughly embarrassed and Kelley seems delighted that she got it on tape.
 
Immediately after the film ended I switched over to Ovation TV and caught Michael Kamen in a show about film composers discussing his daughter's question as to why he gets so sad and he quotes an "Anonymous" philosopher that said, "Melancholy can open a secret door to the sublime."
 
It makes me think of what Billy Corgan wrote in "Zero" when he said, "Intoxicated with the madness, I'm in love with my sadness. I never let on, that I was on a sinking ship. I never let on that I was down. You blame yourself, for what you can't ignore. You blame yourself for wanting more"
 
More is what I want. I can't help it. I eat past being full until it's painful. I want to walk past buildings still standing from another time. I want to be in a city where a car is not needed. I wanted to be on a sidewalk and know in the windows above and all around something artistic is being created for the act of creation itself. I want to go to a cinema that is showing an old movie that was never popular but is one I love and see a house filled with others that also love that film and then I'll know I'm not alone. Maybe make new friends in the lobby and talk about things at a cafe as it rains outside.
 
There are too many things I'm interested in and am capable of doing, but each distracts the other and none get the attention. Writing seems to focus. Even if the content is unfocused. But focus is not needed in a dream.
 
When you stand in front of me, you are all I see. I am yours and you are all there is to me. When I listen to you talk, I see your movies and hear songs about you in my head and just a slight touch from you on my arm or my cheek is all that's needed to bring me out of the clouds and stars back to the shimmering light of your eyes.