waterstrider

          I should stop posting late at night. I'm not happy late at night. Well, next time, I guess. For now - hello thin and irritating crypticism, hello sad sorry melodrama.
          I live and breathe and subsist on surfaces. I'm starting to notice it more. And at a certain point, you have to accept that the skin you think you present to others and the skin you really wear aren't the same thing, and that the person you think you're being probably doesn't exist.
          And there's not much use trying to strip that outer layer away to expose your idea of what you're being, because nobody likes to see viscera.
          Okay - so maybe that metaphor got stretched too far. Gross.
          I don't know. Maybe surface tension is a good thing. Because once you break it, you have to dig in, confront the dark underneath. It's sticky, it swallows you up. There's no oxygen down there. But it's a hollow existence, sliding around on slick, smooth surfaces. It's bland.
          At any rate, maybe the change of scenery will do me good. A week away should help.