in_tears the night star it's hard to say where exactly my thought lie and where exactly their proper domain is. i don't know what's going on, not that i can say with any force that i ever did. i remember the shore of the Big lake. rough edges punctuated by smooth, smooth curves. the trees felt like home in a way that all this brick, concrete, and glass fails to be. but, but. ... but still the pauses of life here, and the rhythms, are similar to the distant sound of traffic like a wave on that vicious, loving lake. at times i'm looking for that replacement driver to take me away. at times i think i think too much and am left thoughtless. but when the thoughts recede, when those damned godsends fade away, the true human wakes up and wreaks havock upon the soul. and then it gives birth to that saving love. alone and unaware, unaware and alone, cyclic and stationary. the truth of the dichotomies is found in the weakness of the mind's ability to grasp the singularities that they represent. alone and unaware, unaware and alone, singing silently. the tears are only heard. not felt or seen or tasted. i am powerless in their wake. and i have been for some time. and that thought of powerlessness and that reality of absence is what wakens the tears that i thought i had left behind weeks ago. and the sun has left us again. 061212 ... empty my tears will fill my room, as my sadness anchors me to the floor, and drown me 061213 ... *Amy* I cannot touch them, or taste them. They're inside, like knives stabbing my chest. I'm paused, frozen...I have no more thoughts, feelings or memories, not even yours, just a flod of tears where I'm drowning... 061214 ... *Amy* I cannot touch them, or taste them. They're inside, like knives stabbing my chest. I'm paused, frozen...I have no more thoughts, feelings or memories, not even yours, just a flod of tears where I'm drowning... 061214 ... *Amy* I cannot touch them, or taste them. They're inside, like knives stabbing my chest. I'm paused, frozen...I have no more thoughts, feelings or memories, not even yours, just a flod of tears where I'm drowning... 061214 what's it to you? who go blather from