Mad Girl's Love Song

Jennifer.

Here I am, a bundle of past recollections and future dreams, knotted up in a reasonably attractive bundle of flesh. I remember what this flesh had gone through; I dream of what it may go through. I record here the actions of optical nerves, of taste buds, of sensory perception. And, I think: I am but one more drop in the great sea of matter, defined, with the ability to realize my existence.

My behavior is incredibly inconsistent; yesterday the complete desire for solitude, today an unrelenting need to be in the presence of others to quiet the chatter in my head. So here I sit in the library that I normally despise, craving the disquiet of page shuffling and pens clicking open and close. I need the gentle movements of others as a backdrop to my eyes. Knowing that others can see me makes me feel all the more real. Today.

Wednesday February 22nd