Dance Day/Secret Pal Day/Stepfather's Day
2005-01-09 @ 11:46 p.m.

Just spent the last 10 minutes complaining about he-who-must-not-be-named to Mel, which was therapeutic while it lasted. You know what I really need? I need to sit down in a nice café, with a couple of friends from school whom I can really talk with, and just talk. We're talking Before Sunrise/Before Sunset kind of conversations here. It has to be school friends, if only because they're around me five days a week, so they'll understand. Hopefully? Sometimes I wonder if the price I pay for having a quick, sarcastic tongue is to never have a real conversation with anyone. Behind all the verbal sniping and laughter, does anyone really know me? Maybe, maybe not. I suppose that's why On A Tuesday Morning appeals to people, because we all need an extra fire to be lighted for us at one time or another. There are moments when I just feel inexplicably alone, and the intellectual assurance that God's there for me doesn't bridge the inner gap, doesn't paper over the cracks inside. To quote Mr Purvis quoting from a former student's poem, "You were there when I needed You, but where were You when I needed someone else?" If you think about it, there's some degree of truth in it, as there is in most assertions. Some days, it's the people sent my way that let me know God's been there, right beside me all the way. I think tomorrow is going to be one of those days. Can you believe it? Now that I'm feeling like the opening chapter of Bleak House, I have to write a poem for De Profundis, and it's supposed to have a "hopeful" bent. This is all his fault. I hate you right now, I really do. In light of today's sermon, that's a decidedly inappropriate feeling to be having, but I really can't help it. The immediacy of it all is overwhelming. Just like a wave of water crashing down...