2005-12-08 - 11:47 p.m.
Jack's Incomplete Catharsis
I never write anymore.
I can not deny it anymore, I am just not the open book I used to be.
I am Jack's Incomplete Catharsis.
There has definitely been a vacancy in my life since I stopped writing here, but I am not sure I have it in me to do this anymore.
I am not even sure if this sabbatical is really over.
I am not really sure of anything anymore.
I am so far gone, I do not even know what my problem is anymore.
The only reason I am even writing this is because my dreams seem to think that this is something I should do. I woke this morning, repeating the name Ivansky. This Ivansky wanted me to write. She was a horrible nightmare of a muse. But she wanted me to write. So, I am bending to her threatening demands.
She told me that I was all or nothing.
And she might just have to take away everything.
And so, I write.
Even if it is completely pointless, and nowhere close to the return entry I continually drempt of losing. Maybe this was not supposed to matter.
That was what made me miserable in the first place.
The way everything mattered.
The way it still does.
It's Only After You've Lost Everything... - 2008-03-12
Jack Is Afraid Of Losing Everything - 2008-03-10
Jack Does Not Know What He Is Living For - 2008-03-07
Jack's Festering Apathy - 2008-03-07
