2010-08-24
implode alright
For some reason I am really feeling this song. I'm not sure why; I don't really like the videogame beepy/whistling stuff (postal service-esque at its best, more of a juvenile owl city vibe when mediocre, cell phone ringtones at its worst), but I guess (begrudgingly) that the lyrics kinda get me, and I like the rough synth.
I found a book in a store today that chronicled a mural project as it developed throughout the streets of Philadelphia: building-wide proclamations of love, painted across the bricks overnight. You turn the familiar corner to make a deli run for a pint of milk on a bland Wednesday late afternoon, and you mindlessly gaze up and there it is, paint beaming in bright letters and spanning the usually drab side of an old apartment complex: "Meet me on 50th and 2nd, even if only for fifty seconds."
It's been so long since that desperate yearning, do you remember what it used to feel like to be desperate for our togetherness? The vivid whir of our empathy for one another, deeper than anything we'd known? Sometimes you'll say things, and I'll recognize them as something deep-seeded within myself, and it will tug at that place inside me where you
inspire me the most. But now sometimes it feels a bit muted, sporadic, and conscientious.
I no longer idealize you (and us) as much as I used to, but I fear it came at this price. I really hope that this is just self-alienation, but maybe I shouldn't 'really hope' anything, and instead just accept it for whatever it is.
I didn't know what to do after work today. Like, I really didn't know what to do with myself. Nothing sounded right. So I walked into center city, and tried on some beautiful dresses that I neither can afford nor for which I have any appropriate events to wear such attire. One looked perfect. When I can finally afford to buy such things, it probably won't look as good. I thought about the ironies of youth and wealth as I walked across the bridge, back to my side of the city. The wind pulled my summer scarf snug around my neck, but I let myself feel the discomfort instead of loosening it. And so I do indulge my mopey boredom a little bit, but any time I begin to feel sorry for myself, I wield my cognitive powers and beckon my deep-seeded gratitude and abolish that ridiculous self-pity.
But what is this? If it's going from Point A to Point B, I know I have officially departed from Point A and am somehow someway en route to Point B, but I have no idea what Point B IS, and I'm not sure how I'll be getting there, either.
I need to be inspired. My work is fascinating and challenging for sure, but I know that in my heart it is not enough. I feel I just need to be patient, and take care of myself.
I can't stop this beat from beating
Cause your heart is holding mine
And I will implode with you
Cause I know we'll be alright
leesah-likes at 11:45 p.m.