{"id":838,"date":"2007-12-14T02:38:11","date_gmt":"2007-12-14T01:38:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/?p=838"},"modified":"2011-04-13T14:04:51","modified_gmt":"2011-04-13T13:04:51","slug":"life-episode-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/2007\/12\/14\/life-episode-2\/","title":{"rendered":"life, episode 2"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/images\/episode2.jpg\" alt=\"life, episode 2\" \/><\/p>\n<p><em>i&rsquo;ve dreamt i was angry<\/em>, but less angry than i was when i finally found sleep. <em>i shouted for a long time to defend someone but by doing so, i was also defending myself.<\/em> i&rsquo;m not that surprised to shout like madness itself in my dreams, every day is just another fight to avoid resent swallowing me. i&rsquo;m even angry at the fact that i&rsquo;m angry, but i won&rsquo;t allow it out or i might hurt anyone i touch. it will probably swallow me entirely, eventually, but i can&rsquo;t care enough, it&rsquo;s just slightly better than another scar. it&rsquo;s swirling and crawling under my skin and it sinks deeper with every move i make, so i&rsquo;m standing very still, just as long as i can make another good picture&#8230;<br \/>\n***<br \/>\ni&rsquo;ve got yet to meet someone who&rsquo;d understand the urge. i don&rsquo;t care that much about mere memories, about fixing mere memories. and i really don&rsquo;t care about showing where i&rsquo;ve been or what i&rsquo;ve done, i don&rsquo;t need proofs. i barely see images when i look at old pictures, i see things beyond that. i watch feelings. mine, others. feelings at the time i snapped the shutter, feelings about about relationships to others, about their feelings toward anything and everything. i&rsquo;ve really got yet to meet someone who understands this urge. fixing things and faces, either because i was feeling something strong, either because i was craving to feel something which i wasn&rsquo;t sure was there. a long time ago, i&rsquo;ve fixed smiling faces to feel like i was there, like i was part of something. now i&rsquo;m certain that i&rsquo;m not but i could never be sure that i really was then. and a few pictures don&rsquo;t prove anything, if you haven&rsquo;t been taught yet that physical closeness means nothing, you will someday. not that i really wish that anyone would learn that. not in the way i did anyhow.<br \/>\n***<br \/>\nit&rsquo;s been a while i haven&rsquo;t felt time. physically. like when you don&rsquo;t let it flow through you but make plannings and lists of things to do and schedules and keep track of things. i haven&rsquo;t kept any of my usual ways to plan things and december fills in and it could as well be october or next march and i couldn&rsquo;t really tell. it might as well be december 2010 or 2002 and i couldn&rsquo;t really tell and in a sense, it&rsquo;s liberating. i&rsquo;m going to have to pay for that somehow, it&rsquo;s going to fall on my head someday or maybe it already has. like running at full speed into a wall. i&rsquo;m sort of trusting myself for not being able to settle forever in the mediocre life i&rsquo;m living right now, but maybe i&rsquo;ve hit my head against one of my walls one too many times. but honestly now, who cares?<br \/>\n***<br \/>\n<em>i&rsquo;ve dreamt that i was angry<\/em>, but it was nothing compared to how angry i was when i fell asleep. maybe somehow i&rsquo;m not letting anything out and hold on to that because it&rsquo;s the only way that i know that i do care. <em>and after i shouted my eyes out, someone i can&rsquo;t know was there and i looked into their sparkling eyes and i saw love&#8230;<\/em><br \/>\nso&#8230; just as long as i&rsquo;m making pictures i like&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>[dewplayer:http:\/\/uncover.free.fr\/zix\/eels-loveless.mp3]<br \/>\n<em>Eels &#8211; Love of the Loveless<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>i&rsquo;ve dreamt i was angry, but less angry than i was when i finally found sleep. i shouted for a long time to defend someone but by doing so, i was also defending myself. i&rsquo;m not that surprised to shout like madness itself in my dreams, every day is just another fight to avoid resent [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-838","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-unfinished-thoughts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/838","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=838"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/838\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1557,"href":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/838\/revisions\/1557"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=838"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=838"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=838"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}