'til human voices wake us

all i really wanted to say was:
fsm 8/31 9.30a
a burn on my wrist, fitting.

(you are not meant to understand)

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question...
-t.s. eliot

i may not ever figure out this love thing. i wish i could give up but i seem to need other people and right now that is making me sad.