A Blast of Past

It was so dramatic, don't you know? I remember sometimes, but only in old emails and journal entries and stuff do I realize how ridiculously much I feel in the midst of argument, conflict, euphoria... I feel crazy all the time. I feel craziest when I go back and read this stuff and think what was I even saying? and who even talks like this? Sometimes I wish I could show you the things they've said, maybe you will see who I was before all of this, when I was cooler, or more interesting... This is my biggest lie. I'm not important or special or different. I'm not magic or manic or marvelous at all. I'm just chatty. And insane, maybe. Maybe when I stopped believing that I could be those things I stopped being those things. And maybe that's when you found me.

I wish that you would think I were extraordinary. I thought that was sort of the deal. I thought we were supposed to be enchanted... otherwise where is the magic in any of this for you? I feel like I'm just really disappointing everyone. I feel like I'm really happy with who I am, but honestly, it would be nice to feel like a big deal again... like I was something else, like I was worth hating because I was misunderstood, like I was something special. I feel an immense sadness knowing I am just like everyone else. Remembering that makes me feel like melting.

I don't know what I'm doing anymore.

"Every great relationship begins and ends with them. They are the foundational Lincoln Logs of communication. They keep us sane, and yet we hate them. They are the curse and the blessing, and the most apt manifestation of human character. The first lie was everything about her. The last was that she was sorry."

Dear Anais, I'm obsessed with you.

"I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman."

http://www.lidmagazine.net/issues/layouts/issue7/gowland2.jpg

For the eternal closet-romantic sixteen year old within me (and maybe you?)...

http://dont-forget-graphics.xanga.com/

Bobby D and the Love Shack

"the cats across the roofmad in love

scream into the drain pipes

bringing' in the sounds of music

the only musican' it is I who is ready

ready t' listen

restin' restin'

a silver peace

reigns an'

becomes the nerves of mornin'

an' I stand up an' yawn

hot with jumpin' pulse

never tired

never sad

never guilty

for I am runnin' in a fair race

with no racetrack but the night

an' no competition but the dawn"

So much beauty it could make you cry.

Cross Your Heart.

I hope I never get too old to recognize an opportunity for adventure... and never too cruel to keep those opportunities to myself. Somebody posted this clip on Britta's facebook. It just reminded me in the midst of homework time that this is all just an adventure. If we don't see it that way, what's the point, you know?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nviA72Lfio8&feature=player_embedded

Living the freakin' dream, man.

dubyateeeff

I feel like I am constantly saving them up, for later maybe, like pennies in a fat piggy bank, minus the reward when he breaks. I feel like the pennies just disappear or something, like there is more often than not nothing for me to do, nothing for me to say, and endless things for me to doubt. There is too much fear in this, fear we should be better and bigger than... but it is nothing in you or in me, but is it something between us? All of us? An unwillingness to speak it in a way where we don't feel desperate first, a last resort. We are all so much better than we behave. I haven't been completely honest with a single person in my entire life. It's not my fault. That's just the reality. That's just human communication. But why do we care at all what other people say, how people say them. What is the value of language any way? The people I know the best I've known since before we met, before they knew we would matter, when I was alone. That's how I learned, you know? Is that the only way? Why do I feel like they always see it in everyone but me?

I don't mean that in like a pitying sense but more like a question of self. Room for improvement?

I went to the fair a few weekends ago. These are my favorite pictures from it.

Dreamzzz

"I just woke up from a dream where we knew the Tanner family and you shared underwear with DJ and when I asked you why, you looked at me like I was stupid and then started trying to feed a pair of underwear applesauce because there was a smiley face on it. Also, they told me that most of the scenes were filmed underwater."

-Robin Gervais, my sister, to me via text. 10:21am, October 5, 2010

May we always have the details to be thankful for.