Monday. ~~~ My life feels like a stream of news on the World Wide Web. It’s more dangerous, that’s how it feels at least, than watching the news on the TV; it’s so compressed, so dense, it’s inpregnable. How does one relate. But you have to follow it – right? How else will you know what’s going on. “What’s going on”… I don’t even know what goes on in my own life right now, how’s that for following that of others. And now it’s a quarter to 21 and I should be at work, but I just skimmed the headlines and suddenly I can’t keep track. Some music will cure it, as soon as I get my head sorted out. Why I seem so confused? I hugged a girl at the office x-mas party, and kissed her hair. Yea, I was drunk enough to do that, and when I walked away I noticed her looking back as to ponder “why the hell did he do that?”. And I felt, like I always do, as if I might look after her forever, and make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. Ridiculous, right? Yea, well I’m like that, highly protective. Jealous, no, protective, yes. Can’t help it. ~~~ It’s so damn hard to love someone who does not rate themselves highly. Every loving word gets washed away as a feather to the breeze. “You look good tonight” becomes “no I don’t, I’m overweight”. “That’s a nice sweater for you” turns to “I can’t fit into any of my clothes”. So why bother. When there’s seemingly no room for them, for those words. I do try to keep it alive, but my best try doesn’t seem to be enough. For her, maybe, for me, no. So why not love someone who would likely care more to be the recipient of those compliments, and take them to heart rather than use them to fuel a self-loath. Well, for one thing because that attraction is spurred on by the situation’s unrest, and that’s not a passable way to enter into romance. The main reason, even. Oh, there’re kids involved, and a ton of other obligations towards a many different people. But mainly because it ain’t fair, not even to myself. I do find it hard to handle myself, obviously, as I should go around and kiss someone on the hair like this. That’s not the myself I’d like to recognize. Where did this begin? With every society’s obligation that she shied away from? Or with every tumultuous emotional uproar, relating to her mother, her brother, her place on earth? Or the birth of our children, and the scenarioes ensuing of ‘be careful what you wish for’. All of those, and some that I’ve thankfully forgotten. I would like to be with someone who knows what they are worth, what they would like to spend their time on. Who’s not afraid of other people, or envelopes from financial institutions. Who’ll make a call, and stick to it without cursing herself endlessly if the call is bad, but most of all dare make it and not question endlessly the merit of it. I’m full of fatique about it. I’m likely to stick it out. But fond of it, nor myself, I am not. ~~~ Tomorrow Tuesday. Am hoping for a quiet day.