oh honestly, youre not going to take on that kind of responsibility. its not that im foolish so much as optimistic in asking for help here, and i dont see the malignancy in asking for it when all parties involved know that the aforementioned responsibility is always and forever, bless its soul, going to rest with me. so yes: i am belatedly aware that you were right in citing your selfishness, and for looking at me like i was a little cobwebbed up-there when i suggested generosity as even an extant but out-of-reach desideratum; there was a woman in the park today who looked straight from the bell jar, dressed up sane and belted but clearly not of this, this, she didnt tilt her head when she watched! i cant name what it was about her post-electric remove, but something wholesale beyond, above, horrific and dreadful utterly POST-, her airs not circulating, this is what so much is leading-to pointing-toward the remove, the meta, within-without, that were prodding at and able to prod at only because its unfathomable, unobtainable, distant, the stupid benumbing fact that our ideas are and so we may, faithfully and penitently (mostly), take them very seriously indeed, this is all so old i know and im sorry (concentration in penitence, my new favorite life major), but it was like she had no faith in this at all - automaton - whose reasoning consisted in acceptance and therefore imitation, they do it must be - past the cogito, past the guilds, past the petty distinction between harlots and whores, past even the deserts and neons and clover-leaves and fury, to, to, to what: there is nothing inexplicable, patterns are reckless, theres never any reason not to, the fucking future:

this wishing, this constant, dire wishing i have, suddenly out of place, and more importantly not petty, even if futile, even if it continues its ignored, unknot-yourself existence; which it might, and which it might not, depending on the fury and the scorn and the figuring out if im really so clever as to have exacted revenge on myself, being evidently capable of an unhappiness so genuine and so thorough with my own willingness to compromise that i have to break every reasonable bone in my body to demonstrate EXACTLY HOW VALUABLE THOSE REASONING SKILLS ARE, and then theres today, the day left with my point proved and a lot of what looks like broken china and no rhyme (not that there ever was - i dont live that particular poetry) and definitely no reason anywhere left to understand it.

so i do in fact who wouldve thought exaggerate, because there are by far too many reasons left, and theyre all reverberating and echoing and yelling at me. oh theyre very clear about how they feel; i just didnt know they did any feeling at all. its nice to know, i guess, and thats what i have for silver lining; how very, unexpectedly intense they can be, and its oh so much the worse now that theyre pressed into knowing of their solitude - or, if not knowing, knowing that thats the only allowable assumption. im not even sure what my pronoun here is referring to, but whatever they are, they are pawing and fetal at the same time, grabby and offensive but skittish, malnourished, translucent, seeing the light of day for the first time and not quite able to blink quite enough.