why I believe in being a pack rat

i found these little passages tucked amongst hundreds of daily planner pages from years ago that i had been storing in my filing cabinet. as i was cleaning my desk out a little (because it's a slow day, not because i've been fired... yet), i quickly flipped through the pages, and these are what i found. i'll put them up here, so i have a copy of them, and can throw the pages away.

friday june 14, 2002
"he lies with his hands and with his actions." -joaquin re: Curious George

wednesday june 19, 2002
i hate maybe
it leaves me under
the weather
it drags the life
from my lungs

she wants an answer
she's tired of waiting
for me to come around. she can feel time slipping through her fingers. I confuse her with my actions: I give and suddenly stop for no reason. I push her away and beg her to stay all at the same time. I can feel the future whispering, I can hear my past mistakes reminding me, the future is pulling at me to seek my childhood ideal. the darkness conceals what could be the light I need. My past is warning me not to waste any more time on those who cannot fulfill my desires and dreams. Women who were stealing my potential and draining my passion. Women I allowed to keep me from myself out of fear of being alone. So when she gives me all of the splendor and glory of her eyes, when she holds me to her and opens her mouth and cries, when she covers me in comfort and warmth and unconditional unmitigated love, I am pulled from all directions. I am torn between serving myself, my former self and the man I am desperately trying to become. "will you love me?" All i can say, being forced to answer, is maybe. I hate maybe. It is cruel to her and exhausting to me. I want to sleep my life through this decision. So I wait and delay, and pause for more information. The scales are swinging, the metrics being hunted, the equations being derived in my head. Digging that deperate tunnel to let go the pressure and answers in my heart.

wednesday june 4. 2003
I'm afraid I can't explain to you
the effect you have on me
with all this distance and all this time
I can still smell you on my clothes.

there isn't much history to recount for all of you.
I'm trying too hard, but I need to write. I need to work through the blockage and make things free-flowing again. So I have little expectation for these words but they carry such great responsibility. The are the soldiers that tirelessly work. That carry their weight in nourishment. And I want to feed the world. The Lord up on high has set this summer in motion and He has a plan out for me.
I think that feeling I've been looking for all my life came over me as I was brushing my teeth this morning. That giddy lightness in my lungs.