to the bone

paring down desire cuts too deeply and hurts. being a grown-up sucks. wanting only what i can have sucks. i want to throw a tantrum.

i determined today that i am a style no one wears long.* all the rage for half a season, they *will* return to classical, traditional styles, leaving me in the resale shops and rummage sales of love.

who thinks these things? rummage sale of love?? ha. that's awful. awfully good. and just plain awful.

while i know, intellectually, that i don't need to be partnered to be happy, it would have been nice. and while i know that there are as many ways of being in relationship as there are people, i am sick of the kind of 'being in relationship' that is necessarily ephemeral, secondary (or tertiary), unnecessary.

unfortunately the knowing doesn't change the wanting (ha! see, Plato?!? i am not ignorant, but my desires are unchanged. ok, this is a bastardization. but still). and i haven't been able to sublimate the desire into consistent productivity, fueling my academic pursuits (or even my domestic ones...) with channeled romantic eros. what is the philosophotrix to do?

i suppose she is to go grocery shopping (chicken, lemons, potatoes, parsnips/turnips, garlic, onions, greens); fold her laundry and put it away; complete her correspondence; vacuum; and read kierkegaard.

*right. as maria reminded me, i am only referring to those men with whom i have had or desired more than a merely friendly interaction. not her or any other dear close, long-standing friend.