There is a subtle longing (and, perhaps, sometimes, a not-so-subtle longing) amongst man that can be most admired on Metropolitan street corners and bus stops (subway stations/burger joints/office spaces/public pools/little Suzie's ballet recital). Everywhere I look, I see faces that belong to the same starving mass, all ravenous for that slightly higher standard of living, all mercilessly beating upon each other to reach their prize. And oft their claws and shallow eyes sadden me, but other times I cannot help but look at them and laugh.

What silly fools they all must be, swarming around haplessly in the thick, grimy haze of capitalism, failing to see the tremendous beauty around them. I want to run up to each of them and shake them and give them a good boot in the ass and shout WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU WONDERFUL, GOLDEN BASTARD!? STOP THIS NONSENSE! GET OUT THERE AND LIVE! THERE IS SO MUCH BEAUTY IN THE WORLD! WHAT ARE YOU HUNTING FOR, A GOLDEN BATHROOM, HMM? --- I get the feeling that most of these people would, after I'd harassed them, simply go on in their regular patterns, return to their usually unfulfilling careers and hope for that Christmas bonus and that faithful lottery ticket, and pray every night to their unseen gods, and blindly continue on their perpetual quest toward the Perfect Life.

I think these people ignorant. The Perfect Life? BAH! What's wrong with THIS Life, I say? The holy merchant of the East could offer me this Perfect Life at no charge, and I would turn him away without more than a second thought! Perhaps someone with more materialistic goals would do otherwise; however, as it is, I am one to prize, above most everything else, the experience of Living. Not only the "good" experiences, but ALL experience, no matter how terribly awful or extraordinarily wonderful it may be. I enjoy the ups and downs. Also, I like to earn that which is in my Life, and, to me, guaranteed happiness can only be of superficial merit as its fruits are not brought about through labour and can therefore never be fully satisfactory. I would feel somewhat guilty for rejoicing in splendours that I would know I had done nothing to earn.

And wouldn't it be terrible, just TERrible, to live a Life of uninterrupted happiness? It seems entirely inhuman, really, and I doubt that a state of such happiness could ever EXIST for myself. The way that I see it, the only way that we could achieve such bliss, such complete feLICity and satisFACTion, given the human tendency to crave that which one cannot obtain, is to strip us of our imagination so that we could not imagine anything greater than that which we already have. AND WHAT AM I WITHOUT MY IMAGINATION, I ASK YOU!? No, no, I would never, by my own right, exchange my imagination for any wealth that man could afford me. My imagination allots me riches far greater than anything that anyone else could possibly know.

So thank you very much, mister holy merchant of the East, for your gracious offer, but I shall have to pass it up for today; and I hope that I will ALways pass it up. Meanwhile, I think that I'll spend my time living in the Every Moment and appreciating Life for all its natural wonder. After all, there is so much beauty in the world.

Stranger flowers yet ---

Life right now is pretty shitty, but I like it anyway.

Sorry, I have to vent.

I've completely spilled my marbles.

Last night I stopped caring.

I'm in the midst of what is somewhat of an emotional crisis. Things came crashing down yesterday and they have yet to be picked up again.

You know that feeling that you get at the top of your head and just above your temples when you are frustrated or upset??? Well, I feel like that all over.

I stopped caring last night. I stopped caring, and that terrifies me. I've spent my time over this last half-decade caring about everything and everyone, and then last night I just lost it (and I mean LOST it) because it's not getting anywhere. Every time I pick up the phone it is to listen to someone rant about their terrible life, and I can't stand it anymore.

People feel compelled to share themselves with me, which is FANTASTIC and I love it, but it does brings about certain problems. Most of the time the things that people share with me are plainly terrible and depressing; they, for whatever reason, fell that it is safe to confide in me when it comes to their own difficulties. Now, I'm always more than willing to help, and I love that people feel as though they can trust me enough to really let loose around me ... but these last two weeks have been so filled with people dumping on me that I finally just couldn't take anymore of it and snapped.

The thing is, I have the power to stop this. I have the power to say No, I'm sorry, I don't want to hear it ... but I never do. Because I want to help people; that's what I live for. And because I feel horribly guilty for turning away a friend in need. And because I would feel hypocritical if I were to stop helping them at any point, as I have always advocated greater compassion toward the world.

And I realised that I am not alive, and that terrifies me even more. I'd always considered myself to be alive. I've always lived in the moment; always made the most of my life; always appreciated my surroundings; always cared. And then I realised that I'm not REALly living. I couldn't even explain this to you if I tried. Only, I realised that everyone around me is either Dead or Dying Slowly, and it sickens me.

The only person that I know who is living is Jess Hill. And she doesn't even know it.

I'm stuck in my past, which bothers me because I am such a strong advocate of the "Live in the Moment" notion. I didn't realise that I was stuck in my past until very recently when Stuart mentioned somethhing to do with Michael's death and I became really upset.

And I realised that, even though Michael killed himself over a year ago, I am not over it in the slightest. I nearly broke down when Stuart mentioned suicide. And I thought about how aften Michael comes to mind and how I always feel sad when this happens and how I always throw myself back onto the same masochistic cycle and how it is not only Michael's death but a multitude of other things that have happened over these past three years (like Jocelyne's death, Lisa's death, the whole issue with James, Shannon's downfall, Phil's murder, etcetera) that I just haven't gotten over ... and I thought GOD, Jessica!!! Get over yourself!!! Get over IT!!! Get over HIM!!! Get over HER!!! GET OVER IT ALL AND MOVE FORWARD!!!! YOU'RE LIMITING YOURSELF!!!! YOU'RE NOT LIVING!!!! STOP THIS!!!! YOU'RE RIDICULOUS!!! And all that I did was sit and think about it more and it slowly drove me nuts.

I JUST WANT THINGS TO BE OKAY. JUST FOR ONE DAY. I WANT A REST. I WANT A REST. I WANT A REST. I WANT TO BE ABLE TO LAY MY HEAD DOWN AND GO TO SLEEP AND NOT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT EVERYTHING THAT ISN'T REALLY MY PROBLEM. I WANT TO RRREEESSSSST!

Even for a moment.






But I care again, and things are going to get better.
Yes, they will.

People should stop trying to know things and focus more on learning things.

Tell me something; anything that you wish. I'm genuinely interested.