astronaut ambition

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Sat Sep 09 00 / 3:28 AM

I am, as ever, obsessed with time. While yesterday I watched a clock spinning madly down, today I consider what will happen if I put my hand on that clock and stop those hands. What universe unexists outside my clock?

It's not that I would ever kill myself; it's only that I feel sometimes that my brain might explode and that would be everything. What would matter without matter.

And it's not that I don't care about what happens to me, I am the only thing I know I care about. I will always care about how I do in school or whether my clothes match. My life is big and small, touch it all all. I want to walk under a million different suns, I want to close my eyes and open them and see stars in both places. I want to drink from you and live forever.

But sometimes, maybe all the time, I don't think I care for the finer essence, the definition. When I narrow the scope, when I forget My Life and focus on Just Life, it easily ceases to interest me. I can close my hands over a book, a flower, a lover, and I can enjoy it and maybe long for it. But I can't close my hands over meaning, there is nothing to grasp but the motes in the air.

Life is the fine print and my eyes have been tired for a while. I'm living the summary and trying to avoid the denouement, but only a sequel will save me now.

I would never leave because I feel you'd miss me, yet it doesn't feel that I would miss this. It all seems so impermanent and who needs it. Even my immortality is temporary. I suddenly accept that without knowing why.

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Lisa Higgs

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*all the time*
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latest archive about email links yearbook japan photoblog wish list	Sat Sep 09 00 / 3:28 AM I am, as ever, obsessed with time. While yesterday I watched a clock spinning madly down, today I consider what will happen if I put my hand on that clock and stop those hands. What universe unexists outside my clock? It's not that I would ever kill myself; it's only that I feel sometimes that my brain might explode and that would be everything. What would matter without matter. And it's not that I don't care about what happens to me, I am the only thing I know I care about. I will always care about how I do in school or whether my clothes match. My life is big and small, touch it all all. I want to walk under a million different suns, I want to close my eyes and open them and see stars in both places. I want to drink from you and live forever. But sometimes, maybe all the time, I don't think I care for the finer essence, the definition. When I narrow the scope, when I forget My Life and focus on Just Life, it easily ceases to interest me. I can close my hands over a book, a flower, a lover, and I can enjoy it and maybe long for it. But I can't close my hands over meaning, there is nothing to grasp but the motes in the air. Life is the fine print and my eyes have been tired for a while. I'm living the summary and trying to avoid the denouement, but only a sequel will save me now. I would never leave because I feel you'd miss me, yet it doesn't feel that I would miss this. It all seems so impermanent and who needs it. Even my immortality is temporary. I suddenly accept that without knowing why.
	</>
Lisa Higgs
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