8:52 a.m. - 2010-10-20
Diary of an Invisible Girl
The past is a tunnel, lined with the soft, threadbare flannel of well worn memories. The past is safe, because it is fixed. Since anxiety is "fear in the future", there is no anxiety in the past. There may be heartache, heady thrills, disappointment, giddy transcendence, angst, longing that feels acute and a rainy, soft focus kind of ennui. But no anxiety. Hope is also strikingly absent from the past. It is frozen in time. Yearning is keen, but hope lies abandoned on the rocks of what simply was. The hopes of the past may be capsized, but they are deliciously capsized again and again in dreams bitter, sweet and safely contained. Jack slowly turning the blue of love, while Rose perches on a block of ice, hot with the passion of loss. We will always have Paris. There is no anxiety surrounding what we will do in Paris. No expectation. No need. It is vapor, everlasting vapor. My diary holds the ramblings of an invisible girl. A girl who avoids the sharp edges of the present and the uncharted terrain of the future, slipping into the soft folds of personal history. Finding solace in slings and arrows long stilled. Maybe she is you.
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