natalie194

natalie194

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I felt this great need to spring up out of bed, to run outside, to do something other than just lying there as I had been. I wanted to move. I wondered what I would wear that day. I wondered how I was going to get anywhere without a car. I wondered what I would eat before I left. And suddenly I was exhausted enough to sleep again.

I guess my dreams can live this prosperous life, even if I never actually live those dreams, you know? I'll feed them, pay the utmost attention to them, and then they're sure to prosper. And while I have something as special as dreams I'll prosper too. Even if they aren't coming true I'm still existing hand in hand with them. I'm still living them.

I've been warned now, I suppose. Just so that there will be no surprises. I guess it's not like it's actually going to prevent anything - well, nothing, no real actual concrete thing. Surprise is not a thing. I can't touch it, I can't hold it. It's fine, it's all good. I've been warned.

I'm pressed for time, like some flower between the pages of a book, wanting to last beyond what I was maybe intended. And my youth will fade, unlike that flower - but we'll both be devoid of something, water, life - time. Something. If I carry on this way, that is. I'm just so pressed for time, you see.

estoy preocupada - tan preocupada que la primera cosa que pienso es en esapnol, aunque en realidad, no hablo esta idioma. No puedo pensar ahora mismo, y entonces mi cerebro encontra un sendero diferente, y desconocido a mi.

I'm convinced now, I suppose. It doesn't matter that I won't later be able to trace exactly why That is, or figure out that I really shouldn't be. I'm convinced and that's the only reason there is. No middle ground here, not one way with which I could turn back. That's the way things are. And all this is what I've convinced myself of, as well.

port

IT was supposed to be a port city... I didn't see any port. Just the cars backed into the lake to get washed. And it's making me think of this film I've just seen, the end of the river, and realizing while watching it that my illusions of grandeur are gone. I am what I am, what I am made to be. Taken a bit easier with a glass of wine. But not port.

And it is a concern of mine, whether you think it concerns me or not. Does the worry that I carry not have any effect on what I should or should not be involved in?

This point is the one where I don't know what to do - how to confront all these stresses placing themselves around the weakest points of my psyche, wanting to fight back but not knowing what to fight against exactly - looks like it's going to be a shootout.

rally

Rally together, rally day - it's a rather unattractive word, really, not in its meaning but just in its sound. It doesn't sound like something I'd want to rally around. I'd actually want to disband because of it, meaning left behind in a frantic frenzy to scurry away from things that are not aesthetically pleasing when I see the sounds in my mind.

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writing since 2011 · 41 entries · 41 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Natalie showed up.

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41days written

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on this day 15 years ago

Natalie wrote about sinking
“And wasn't sure exactly when it was that I discovered I could not float. I moved my arms around me in placid circles, creating foam, wondering how many things would keep building up like this - but …”

the words Natalie reaches for

exactlynowbehindsupposelostwordssurewonderedgamedifferentwaterhandfullsomehowmassivebooks