scribbled_thoughts misstree with the tv murmuring and cajoling i was left far too free to think and pages bore their brunt, let me leak ink and soul and slightest tears where it washed over the tattered banks. i need these words to live free of the page where they will be forgotten, buried in a book never opened. i need these words to part in peace, to rest, and let me rest with them. i bring them to red to give them a grave. 061105 ... misstree so many broken promises. "why do we still miss them after all they did to us?" because we loved them, because we cannot comprehend betrayal without remorse. 061105 ... misstree it isn't right that creatures like us should suffer so. our love is that of beautiful beasts, pure, uncomprehending of cruelty. 061105 ... misstree if we did not love them they wouldn't have the power to destroy us. 061105 ... misstree sometimes there is no happy ending. sometimes you have to make the best of burden, have to hope that time will fade cruel face. sometimes the hero does not get the girl. sometimes the girl does not get the hero. sometimes it is a courtesy if they die rather than leave wounds full of thorns. 061105 ... misstree i need to become something again so that i can have a vessel to fill myself with. 061105 ... misstree "a love that will live forever." is there anything more cruel? is it not enough for me to live in this graveryard? i pray you find rest within me instead of haunting my halls to madness. i love you still and i hate you for it. 061105 ... misstree i cannot feel worth without a job. i cannot feel self without worth. i cannot feel others without self. i need to find a job but i cannot feel that anyone would want someone without worth. there is an excuse for every occasion. it is the one ability i amaze myself with. 061105 ... misstree (i blame most of this maudlin mood on unemployment, the ending of halloween, moulin rouge, and the too-brief visit of my darling heartbrother. "hell is the absence of god." alone is the absence of love. remembering the beatific presence of kin reminds me too keenly of the cruelty of my isolation.) 061105 ... PeeT why we miss, misstree. 121229 what's it to you? who go blather from