Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.
Saturday, August 02, 2003
Sometimes I think everything's happening too fast, too soon. Then sometimes I feel like I'm about to die of boredom.
I have an eternal love-hate relationship with the world. Everything's beautiful and colorful one minute and then I'd be sorely tempted to scream obscenities at the top of my lungs, smash something hard, and hurt other people for no reason.
Then as always, I ask myself, what makes me real? I feel so dispensable and useless, generally. I don't know which is worse, me yearning for something or me having something wonderful and not knowing how to take care of it?
I like it when I stand alone in the third floor lobby of our ofifice. I like it because I understand what makes other people jump off from a building. The ground looks so beautiful and so inviting when you're at the top. I could almost taste the thrill of spreading my arms as I plunge down.
But why do I stand back from the railings whenever I feel like I'm about to do it?
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