the problems in my head....

no... no voices. at least not yet. i've been in sort of a weird head-space lately. i guess that should be readily apparent by my asking okami to marry me - even though it was intended to be humourous, a joke, not only was it in poor taste - but there is something just so inherently and fundamentally wrong and odd about it that it is not only not funny, it's not funny.

i'm sitting here listening to iris by the goo goo dolls over and over and over as i type this.

i knocked some stuff under my desk over, and went to clean up the spill of paper - this is the area i keep my shoebox(es) in.... you know - shoebox. the spot where you keep odd scraps of memory. i opened them and sifted through a couple of items.

• 1990 concert ticket stubs for Depeche Mode - Violator.
• 1994 contert ticket stubs for the Eagles - When Hell Freezes Over tour.
  
• Ticket Stubs form the San Franciso Alcatraz tour a couple years ago.
• A couple pennies that were an in joke between an instructor and myself (my 2c worth. the 2 i have are American pennies as he was from chicago - his are Canadian of course.)
• An empty frame that used to contain a cherry stem tied in a knot. (since you must know, a friend of mine years ago - back in my college days, ate the cherry and tied the stem into a knot using only her tongue before taking it back out of her mouth and handing it to me. I've lost the stem, but the frame still puts a smile on my face.
  
• old cards from Christmases, graduation, and birthdays.
• old letters - Love letters, LOVE letters, fight letters, make-up letters, letters of discussion. Man I used to date a psycho bitch - I guess when someone's nickname for you is "My Little Boy" that should be a pretty good indication there's a problem, eh? (Can you top that one Joe?)

shit. my state of mind is out of joint enough that i'm capitalizing. and i'm too tired and lazy to fix it - fuck the stylistic at the moment.

I ran across two things - one was a scrap of something I had written - the other is a quote that i prefaced a journal with. they seem to fit my mood at the moment - so here they are.

I. I the Creator.
Holding in my head.
My hands. My words.
Untold worlds of limitless possibility.
Infinities of probability and choice.
In the beginning was.
My own image.
Or shall i be something new and untried.
How shall I begin.
And Where.

- messiah

"And this journal will be destroyed... must be destroyed. It is a poet's place to lay bare thoughts that others must deny even having, but poetry is dead and I soon will be and I refuse to leave these thoughts where prying eyes will find them. And yet I must write about it all or go mad."

- Dan Simmons
The Great Lover

ok.... i take that back - on second thought, they don't really fit my mood much. to be honest, i'm not really sure just what my mood is right now.

i think it may no longer be an option not to take some time for reflection. pondering. retrospection.

and maybe to burn some of those old, poisonous letters that i am no longer sure why i've held on to for 15 years.