Monday, November 24, 2008

National Express London King's Cross to York 11/18/08

Time away helps you realise who you are, who you love, and what you must do. It is harder than you think to clear your mind of those at home, your inner monologue chatting away incessantly, in the hopes of brief human interaction in which you have no future and no past, no personal investment, and a face you will not remember.

I no longer truly belong here - if I ever did - but I am afraid to come home and find my life and future in shambles, destroyed, and my strength fading away as I set foot in my house, the desperation of escape and loss returning. The strength I will need to hold tight, hold still, and keep faith. That he has not left me - whom I have given up these five years for, the loss of one dream traded for another, traded for my heart...... I am so tactile, I must touch everything with my calloused fingertips (the sacrifice of a musician, twisted fingers)--

4 am does not seem so hopeless here. Lost in the sea of accents, of the fashionable things I do not truly care for, in the hopes of returning a New Woman, a cleaner soul, to steal back a man from the invisible challenger. I know I must leave [home] again, to recapture the insomnia of being alone. I wonder if I do not enjoy life like normal people, that the solitude of being in a new place is almost as comforting at this hour. When I fear you are not waking up alone..... Dear Heart, I would have stayed to save you, you but you never gave me the chance. Within three weeks from my best friend, to my love, to someone I no longer believe nor trust. The polite fascination of someone spilling their soul to a stranger --- I would never do this in America, where public transportation holds an undercurrent of menace.

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