2005-08-28
listen glisten
I sit here by myself and type to this computer and contemplate just how much I am capable of loving another person. Invisible tears stream to my eyes as I ponder the feeling of complete adoration for someone else. Loving someone so much that I can feel my heart twinge, the very blood vessels themselves, the organ shuddering in the rapture. Love so much and so hard and so raw that my face cringes at the thought of it- not in disgust but an endowed reaction to the mere notion of it all, how I am so taken over. My lips tremble and quiver and I can�t utter or evoke any of it as I could ever hope to. It is a yearning so immense that I can sense the blood rushing, so alive and human. It is human to love. And I do.
Girls play such stupid games. But in giving my gender the benefit of the doubt, I have to believe that half the time they don�t even realize it. And then I wonder how many times I could ever fit into said category. It�s all in the eyes of the beholders.
I never meant to confuse anyone. To connive, manipulate, lie- that�s just not how I roll.
Gas was 1.99/gal somewhere in Spokane. My parents really seemed to think that was awesome. The place was pretty busy too, they were really advertising it up. Everyone seemed so happy about it- they had guys standing at the car entrance to the station holding cardboard signs announcing the price. They would gleefully count how many people they brought in. People honked as the passed, and turned around to get some if they were going the other direction. It was just nice to see.
Edward came with us, along with his girlfriend Julia. She wears big ivory earrings and has a good sense of style. She is kind, and talks like she is from the city. They cuddled together in the van during the rides. He is happy. He makes pizzas at Johnny Carino�s. He listens to a variety of music, and shares a bed with her because he loves her. He is tamer toward me now, and maybe somehow a little more solemn, but just as selfish. His life is good. I won�t stop missing him, and that will be because the circumstances will never again be in a way where that is not possible, where he is here with us again as he was. He is gone, and it is bittersweet.
You know how people sometimes just wear headphones around their neck when they aren�t listening? Maybe someone should make a necklace that looks like headphones. You wear it around your neck and people might think they are headphones but no, it is just jewelry. They could sell it in the 10 for $5 bin at Claire�s in the mall. No, I wouldn�t buy them. I�m just saying.
School is working its way through, shoving the other calendar squares out of the way to make room for it. The days then spiral out of the way as it barges through. Thursday. I am going to have to be an optimist for this one. People, an adolescent metropolis, those immature ones who are fun to laugh at/with in a way that really honestly isn�t mean to be demeaning or condescending, the majestic athletics, the pseudo-intellectuals like myself. (I don�t use that term lightly, how much can we really know [or think we know] when we are still in high school?) Buzzing hallways, the beep of the bell that is hidden somewhere under the folds of my messy memory. Am I making this too nostalgic..?? It�ll be fine. It has to be.
sometimes all you really need is a big, longlasting bear hug. It�s been too long.
I couldn�t agree more. Whatever floats your boat. I can be profound if I damn well please. And I do.
Gatsby is still a big fat orange tabby cat with a black top hat and cane. But I like em.. meeeeowww.
Eyes water a little, somewhat form exhaustion, and sickness, and grief. They don�t see quite as clearly now in this delirious hour. Music is so good. The rhythms and harmonies carry me through. Put on a song you really like and just bask. I know some really really awesome ones, they were gifts. That�s what�s gotten me thinking about all this in the first place. I have to go listen now, goodbye.
leesah-likes at 11:23 p.m.