Rooftops! City buildings underneath me, I can run for a solid block from roof to roof. Running in a city is like running on water--you have to step quickly, or your feet will sink in, slip through the surface and trip you. And now it's the Summer and I want to run but can't, I've broke surface tension and I'm suddenly underwater. Eyes are blurred, I go to work every morning in a watery haze. Sitting at a keyboard for eight hours, I can barely breathe. But I'm still kicking--I break the surface every couple days, gasping for air. Sometimes I just step out of my lab and start running, for miles. Running from myself, I call it. I run until I can barely breathe, until my legs and lungs are screaming at me to stop. Just another way of breaking the surface; poor man's therapy. Shrinks are overpriced; you get the same results with nothing but your legs, now at a low, low price of only...free!
My neck cartiledge is sore. I'm twisting my head, staring at every girl that passes by. I'm feeling myself dissolve into another nameless lab worker, and I'm struggling to latch on to someone else's identity, since mine is slipping away. It's funny--I don't have a good sense of who I am anymore. I walk through the city late at night, and passing people on the street, I only see myself reflected in their eyes moment to moment as a lover, a mugger, a rapist, a friend. And then they walk past, and I'm left staring into the night, trying to find another mirror.
I dislike sinking into routines. I don't want to know where I'll be in an hour's time. I want excitement! adventure! unknowns!
I want to feel charming. I want to be in love again.
There was a thunderstorm last night. I sat on the roof in a deckchair, watching lightning strike buildings a block away from me, not quite sure if I was safe. I'm happy when I'm soaked.
I've got to get up kinda early in the morning. I should get to bed soon.

---

summer 2005 (hcp list)