No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2001-09-04 - 2:57 a.m.

insomnia-inspired letter to dream girl

dear dream girl:

these are the times that you seem the farthest away. i know that you're only a place in my mind, a woman-shaped idea i hold within myself. but i yearn every day for you to storm into my life, to give that formless idea a shape and a face and a name. i want for you to teach me the meaning of love.

i know that you don't exist as i dream you to be. but i hope that somewhere out there, there is a real flesh and blood woman who is close to the mold.

it's times like these, three in the morning on a monday, when i can't sleep, and my fears and self-recriminations have taken control of this claptrap machine that is my brain, that you seem the most ephemeral and illusory. it is times like these that i doubt most your existence.

i don't want to die alone. more than that, i don't want to do all that living up until i die by myself either.

so, dream girl, if you don't see fit to storm into my life just yet, could you at least send me a letter, and let me know you're out there?



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