muddled and spent

I am all tapped out tonight, exhausted by class and work and demanding conversation this evening on the nature of recognition and relationship and meaning. I am tempted to simply cut and paste from my gmail chat record into this form, but somehow that seems like cheating, since suddenly this patently one-way method of communication would turn into a repeated conversation which seems against the spirit of things. We did decide, however, that I am an egoist and you are a voyeurist, and that relationship, however tacit, still forms a part of who we are, and in fact makes us take on ourselves. I suppose there really is no rational reason to write here, despite my professed intentions, in such a distanced and impersonal medium and yet I return day after day to the page seeking something - self-validation? vindication? notoriety? simple acknowledgment? Perhaps all of the above, and for those reasons I see no need to stop.