...She worried a lot about whether she was good enough. It was surprising to see how relieved she seemed whenever I told her how amazing she was. I wanted her to feel strong and free. She was beautiful when she was strong and free."
-- Love is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time by Rob Sheffield
Not written about me, but it might as well have been. Minus the fact that I haven't died out of the blue from a pulmonary embolism. :: Knock on wood. :: Renee, Sheffield's wife, was 31 when she died.
Well, that was morbid.
I like it when I find people who make me feel strong and free. I like it when I find people who make me feel like me. It doesn't happen very frequently. Or maybe I don't let it happen very frequently. I also like it when I find people who see me better than I can see myself. Though, that's not as hard to do these days. I'm stupid and scared and kind of end up running away from everyone in the end, anyway. I suppose I should work on that. At least I'm aware of it. Even when I'm in complete denial of something I don't want to be true, I'm usually still aware of it and am just avoiding being honest with myself. Deep down I know it's the truth. That's something I guess. Though, knowing you're acting cowardly doesn't make the fact that you're being a coward any easier to accept when that's the last thing you want to be.
Haha, that's depressing.
Morbid and depressing. Lovely. I'm a fun person, I swear. I guess, just not at 3:23 a.m., evaluating the post-Valentine's Day wreckage. Well. Just in general at this hour when I can't find the "off" switch for my incessant, overbearing, impossible-to-please brain.
Speaking of which. An old friend commented on my away message on AIM the other day when it said, "Consciousness is overrated." He told me that it was horrible and depressing and that I was basically saying I'd rather die. Which is not what I intended at all. I just meant that, when you have a lot of realities to deal with which you'd prefer to ignore, sleep is infinitely preferable to being awake. I just meant that I was running away because I couldn't turn off my brain. I just meant I was being weak. I didn't mean I was suicidal and I wasn't envisioning some macabre end of all consciousness. I meant consciousness as in being awake versus being asleep, not being alive versus being dead. I was just indulging in childishness. But I wasn't about to explain that to this kid. He never would understand, anyway. He doesn't see me clearer than I see myself, though I think he might have a long time ago. He's one of those people Andy Warhol talks about who likes me for the wrong reasons--or at least, likes me for something that I'm probably not. He wouldn't understand that, either, though.
That was depressing too. Moving on.
This song is pretty sweet. It's nothing special, really, but for some reason, the lyrics and tone just click with me. It makes me think of summertime in the city, where young people find this inexplicable euphoria in the damp darkness, where they roll through the streets like they own the world. It makes me want to gather a bunch of chill people and go to a random concert and grab a drink or two. It makes me want to do something spontaneous and embrace the irrepressible irresponsibility of youth. It makes me want to find someone passionate to love, and go on an adventure with them. Do something crazy just for the sake of being able to talk about it afterward--just once. Why not, when every other kid makes a lifestyle out of it. Really, the song is just fun. Give it a whirl.
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Now playing: We Are Scientists - After Hours
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1 comment:
Well, at least you realize you're too harsh on yourself. That has to count for something.
Valentine's Day wreckage? Oy vey.
And which idiot was that?
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