:: Sunday, August 18, 2002 ::

"A sentence suspended in air..." (Travis)

Quiet walls, the acute aloneness after a busy weekend... I'm realizing that summer was only a hiatus in the interlude of life here. How can this semester be starting so differently, yet be a continuation of last?
I could post exactly what I want right now, but wouldn't that be a cry for attention -- like insulting yourself to get compliments, or idling up next to a masseuse and complaining about your back pains? Praise loses most of its worth when it is asked for; hugs lose a great deal of warmth when they are solicited. I should follow the Golden Rule and do something special for someone else feeling lonely tonight.

"Dear diary,
What is wrong with me?
'Cos I'm fine between the lines..."

Labels: Yore

:: Bethany Bassett - 9:30 PM :: + ::