to love without ever knowing

Had a dream I did horrible things last night. I lied about them.

I watched a movie last night. Here is a monologue from it:


Everything is more complicated than
you think. You only see a tenth of
what is true. There are a million
little strings attached to every
choice you make; you can destroy
your life every time you choose.
But maybe you won't know for twenty
years. And you'll never ever trace
it to its source. And you only get
one chance to play it out. Just try
and figure out your own divorce.
And they say there is no fate, but
there is: it's what you create.
Even though the world goes on for
eons and eons, you are here for a
fraction of a fraction of a second.
Most of your time is spent being
dead or not yet born. But while
alive, you wait in vain, wasting
years, for a phone call or a letter
or a look from someone or something
to make it all right. And it never
comes or it seems to but doesn't
really. And so you spend your time
in vague regret or vaguer hope for
something good to come along.
Something to make you feel
connected, to make you feel whole,
to make you feel loved.
And the truth is I'm so angry and
the truth is I'm so fucking sad,
and the truth is I've been so
fucking hurt for so fucking long
and for just as long have been
pretending I'm ok, just to get
along, just for, I don't know why,
maybe because no one wants to hear
about my misery, because they have
their own, and their own is too
overwhelming to allow them to
listen to or care about mine.
Well, fuck everybody.
Amen.