July 8th, 2004


everyone comes here looking for love.

The average person bathes in their self-sympathy. They fill the bath tub with scalding hot water, add in the dregs of a bottle of soap, and tenderly test the water with one toe before easing their bodies in.

They occasionally dive into the deep cerulean of a pool of hatred and angst. They use the diving board, attempting fancy tricks, rarely managing to accomplish said tricks. Instead, they make a roaring belly flop and sink into the depths. A portion of the swimmers, unwilling to dive, enter the sauna or the hot tub - releasing their emotions to the warmth.

They attempt to swim the oceans, but never dare to go too far away from safety, away from the shore. They wade in polluted lakes and rivers, walk through the ankle-high creeks, watch their steps as they cross streams via wet, slippery rocks.

But they have the power to pick up a towel and wipe their bodies free from the water, the soaking self-sympathy. They can lay out on a beach or in the middle of a backyard, permitting the sun to force its way past the sopping mess that they were once covered in. They can ignore it.

There is no lifeguard to save me as I drown in this pool of my own self-sympathy.

It shouldn't be like this.
  • Current Music
    Abigail Lapell - Self-Sympathy