Hollow

It's not a peppy day so if you're looking for sunshine and roses you won't find them here. No reasons really, it is just what it is... and I don't feel great and I want the day to be over. Why? For all the reasons I've written about before - this is what happens when they rear their ugly heads, this is how I feel when I can't fight them off... this is how it is when I'm tired. The five hundred pound circus freak invades and I sometimes think it's worse the better I get, if that makes sense. Let me explain: I do so well getting from day to day - I've come so far - and I think because, for the most part, I'm in the moment and busy and productive - happy - that when the freak visits she really visits and she takes advantage of any crack she can find and she exploits it for her own gain. She feeds off it and expands her girth with every little doubt and misstep I make. When she sits around, she really sits around - babumbump... oh, and she's pms-ing - what the hell?

I read a lot in college - a lot. I took quite a few English classes because I was majoring in English when I first went to school - that all changed later when I ended up taking a ton of poli sci classes and now... well... that's another story - but for this entry it's helpful to know I took a lot of English classes... and so yes, I read a lot - and I remember reading TS Eliot and I very vaguely remember reading The Hollow Men, but I certainly remember these lines:

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper

Who doesn't know these lines? I thought about it today as I was driving and I realized most things, if not all things - relationships I suppose - end with whimpers and not bangs. Bangs are never the end - there is too much emotion there, it's the whimper that's most deadly, most dangerous... it's a slow seep or a silent leak... and one day you wake up and it's all gone. Bangs draw attention. Whimpers simply slink out the door.

It takes a lot to hang on to an emotion, an idea, a feeling. When you finally get too tired or start to feel too pathetic, that's when you just, without a word, loosen your hands and let go. No words are necessary then... I mean why would they be? The bang has long passed by then, nothing left to clamor over. Is that a recognition of futility? Is that the sound futility makes? Regardless, it's the sound the circus freak makes - I wish she'd just go away for good. Not so sure that's ever going to happen....