Oct. 25th, 2004

solitary_summer: (Default)

Sometimes privacy is necessary, sometimes I don't want to bother taking care how to exactly phrase things in order not to give a wrong or skewed impression. [Edit: On second, or third, thoughts, unlocked. ::shrug::]

Running before work helps relieve the tension, after 70 mins I'm pleasantly tired, the edge is taken off a little, I'm less energetic, but also less likely to be irritated and/or irritable. I can stand by (step back) with a certain amount of lethargy, nod & agree & let her do whatever she wants to do in whatever disorganised way she choses to. Can convince myself that I don't much care. Petty, certainly, but if your ambition is constantly to be cut short at a certain level, if your energy isn't wanted... if this is the way she wants it, then so be it.

I'm not happy with this, but for the moment it seems the better course of action, rather than constantly struggle with anger and frustration.

So I look at Aivazovsky's paintings, and dream...

Part of me feels (obliged to feel) slightly guilty about this recent unexpected bout of fangirlishness, but the greater part is just unabashedly happy, because it is so very good to feel positive, enthusiastic, alive about something again, even if it's something comparatively stupid or trivial. Tired as I am at the moment it's hard to recapture the emotion, but this afternoon I felt it acutely. Not dead inside. Alive


solitary_summer: (Default)

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