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          A                "Eye Contact"               aNAda #13   A
        A                                                            A
     A                      by Phairgirl               02/16/00         A
 A                                                                          A
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	And the more I look around, the more I see everything that was not
 meant for me.

	I spend a lot of time doing that... just looking.  I miss a lot of
 things.  The wheels don't turn when they should.  I sit in stupor, until
 someone waves something in front of my face.  "Hello?  Anybody home?  Why
 don't you ever pay attention to me?"

	And it's never intentional.  It's not that I'm bored, it's not that
 I'm rude, it's not anything, really.  Sometimes the wheels turn when they
 shouldn't.  I try to listen to a wonderful story, an important instruction,
 a life-affirming tale.  But somewhere along the line, I stop listening, and
 I wander off somewhere else.

	I don't like to wander off.  Sometimes it's helpful, when I'm being
 propogated and inundated by crazy thoughts and pointless babble.  Other
 times, it's something I really wanted to hear... or even needed to hear.
 But I turn it off.  I stare blankly and think about other things, anything
 else...

	I think about how I am in love.  I wonder how I can stop myself from
 being in love.  But it happens so damn quickly.  I meet people, I like them,
 I love them.  I don't think about if they love me back.  I just assume that,
 in some way, they do.  It's not as intense as a relationship love, but much
 more than a brotherly love.  It's the knowledge that these people are close
 to me and that I will do anything for them.  It's very unhealthy, this love.
 It makes me think about things I shouldn't think about, like relationship
 love, which should not even be in question.  I don't want to be in love like
 that, because it ruins people and it ruins me.  And yet, I can't stop
 thinking this way.

	I think about how I hate.  I can't stand being drawn toward so many
 horrible people, horrible motivations, horrible lifestyles.  I do things and
 instantly regret them.  I act on a whim and scar myself.  I think too much
 and I get lazy.  I dream large and act small.  I don't like where I am, I
 don't like who I am.  And yet, I feel safe and content.  I blame this hate
 on others, but really, it's all for me.

 	I think about what life would be like if I could have my way, if
 things would flow the way they do in my wildest dreams, and how happy I
 could be.  I think about someone putting their arm around my shoulder and
 confirming that I really do have feelings.  I picture losing my independence
 long enough to let people help me.  I sit here and laugh, knowing none of
 this could be true.

	I try to listen to others again.  But I can't concentrate.  I can't
 decide if I'm awake or asleep.  I contemplate my existence.  I laugh at
 depression, because there's none of that here.  It's all blank.

	And someone once noticed me, once noticed all of this, and yelled at
 me for being self-important and rude, because they wanted my mind to
 contemplate THEIR thoughts instead of my own.  And I apologized, and I
 stammered, and I couldn't concentrate long enough to care that they were
 upset.  I just de-focused again.

	I'm so uncomfortable, so easily irritated with people.  I spend so
 much of my time being in love with them that I wish they would all go away.
 I find excuses to never have to share with them, deal with them, co-exist
 with them.  And yet, when I lay down to sleep at night, they're all I can
 think about.  I love them so much that I want to hurt them.  And I laugh at
 myself, because it's all so superficial, it's all so plastic.

	I've become a product of my blind, empty environment.  It comes so
 naturally that I push away good things to keep myself at a sub-par,
 comfortable level.  I don't mind ruining my life, because it's never really
 ruined, it all turns back into the same thoughtless mush where I began.  I
 exist, I speak, I think, I stare.

	I make eye contact with people all the time while I am talking... but
 not every person.  And it's those select eyes that upset me most, because
 they've gotten to me.  They pull me away from my coma.  They remind me that
 I don't have the slightest idea who I am anymore.  And I can't look into
 that successful dream of mine staring back at me and cheerfully smile and
 feel proud.  I can't look into those visions of happiness and feel alive.  I
 want to crawl in mud and beg for selfish forgiveness, dreaming that they
 would brush the hair from my eyes and force me to let them help.

	Hahahaha... I sound like a madwoman.

	It's already begun... and I'm paralyzed.

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 {  (c)2000 aNAda e'zine *                       * aNAda013 * by Phairgirl  }
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