we must seek other words that mean as much as love
some level of respect, admiration, and commitment that falls in between liking and loving. move into the grey areas of passion and dedication. the small lines on the measuring stick.
or maybe I am just no longer capable of the big love I used to know. now I embrace all things casual. if I were more desirable I might lean toward the predatory side of dating. I'm a womanizer with no women. or not.
I believe I can still do it. fall in love.
i think i can ... i think i can ... i think i can
everlong
sometimes it does seem that way. I try and think maybe some kind of god will take care of things for me. then I remember that line in Unforgiven, "Deserve's got nothing to do with it"
gotta promise not to stop when I say when
i can't come up with what a woman would really mean to me. the right woman, or even the wrong one. if anything. last week seemed a good indication that i still long for someone. a thousand different someones every day. I'm too crush-weary to be specific. time hasn't done its job on every wound. I don't remember much, except that it felt right. every moment with her felt right.
and she sang
i'm anxious, and nervous, and making plans to take myself out of the game already. i hate playing games when it comes to this stuff anyway. i'll at least be the kind of man I feel good about. Life won't take that away from me again. even in moments of weakness I'll breathe in strength and understanding.
ob-la-fucking-dee
the rumors are definitely not true. but I can't testify to anything because the facts aren't clear. my memory is blurred. long day, sore muscles, pills, shots, pints, some new drug called "pretty girl talking to me"
about what? good question.
hmm. work, gambino names, places, why Italy, she did her best to be herself, with astonishing precision. flawless flirtation.
and her cb'ing office buddy. what was his name? yeah pal, I get it. she came here with you. ok, grabby guy, we're having a conversation.
down boy.
he's a lucky dog.
from end to beginning: _____zzzzzz. bed. car. booth. (I don't remember.) gotta go. Keep them guys away. Ciao. Italy. Chicago. Money. Foundation. Invitations. Bloomburg. NYC. Graphic Designer. I'm older, no, I'm older. Ally, like Ally McBeal. Sit down, you're making me nervous.
or did it start before that?
in the waning hours of the day, when the light is magical for hollywood dps, and the thoughts that we manage to keep at bay through work, or food, or drink, or whatever we ply ourselves with come flooding back at us, I think of a girl. or should I say, girls.
surprise surprise surprise
I think of a girl that I loved, and then I think of one who claimed to love me. the circumstances expertly arranged to make a liar out of me. the boy who claimed to fully embrace love, who made it a holy thing. who faltered.
then I think of a girl who I loved without knowing it. she put her heart in the hands of a cheap-suited used car salesman of love. she knew what she wanted, got it, and left. she's the one that frightened me into thinking that I could actually be happy, and maybe it was my fault that I'm not. I think of her every day.
I think of the girls that touched me, for their own reasons, and didn't like the feel or the fit. or maybe decided it wasn't worth all the effort. I know I don't make it easy for anyone.
finally I think about the girl who makes me wait. she already knows about her power, and doesn't wield it cruelly or without regard for the consequences. so far away, she holds court for her subject of one. in her kingdom of words and emotions. the queen of hearts. I've already told her how I feel. how long it's been since the last time I felt it. how much I like it. maybe I can just be happy.
---------
I watched Say Anything again. listened to John Cusack and Cameron Crowe talk about how Lloyd Dobler chose optimism as a revolutionary act. He CHOSE to be happy and make the best out of the world as he found it. That, above all other sentiments in the movie, is what makes it so special to me. It is truly something to which I aspire.
i'm just a spoke in a wheel
a part of a puzzle
part of the game
i'm being framed
it rained, I worked anyway. saw orange county, it was pleasantly mediocre. then the circle jerks.
it's been a long time coming. and well worth the wait. perhaps I've gotten closure on a portion of my life, but I'm not ready to hang up the gloves like Michael. it still works. I still love coming out of a show with that buzz,batteries charged.
hey ladies, get funky.
time to start again, I'm gonna get a jump start on spring and maybe be a little friendlier before the weather brightens my disposition. I will CHOOSE to be happy, or at least happier.
and I have nothing to hide, so, yeah, maybe I should work on that. maybe I should have a secret love, or a clandestine affair, or even a crush. it's not my fault that I'm a misfit, but it's not like I do a whole lot of trying either.
damn I hope I can still rock out like those old bastards I saw tonight when I'm in my forties. and beyond.
music is the answer.
manic
can you take me away from this place,
give me a weapon to fight this pain?
I will take the sun
hold it in my hand
when we both believe
then the pain just can't win
so don't let go
come on hold me tight
we'll face our sorrow
be done with the fight
I will derail desperation train
I will derail desperation
--death by stereo
here it is 2002, and I'm bored. you know the routine, if you know me. my mom might say I'm just being an aries, but it's probably a bit more than just that. I want more. I feel like I can accomplish something, but I'm beginning to understand what kind of time change takes. nothing huge, or life-altering appearing all at once. just a slow, deliberate movement toward what I desire.
let's go to the tape...
manic
What is it about parents that holds so much sway over us, even as adults? I've been my own person (emotionally) since I was old enough to even form an opinion, but I will always measure myself by the yardstick of my father. He is the only person that can get into my head and shake me. It's telling of how much I love him, I guess, but it's still something that drives me to over-react and lose control.
Sometimes I regret how I've lived because of how I feel I've disappointed him. He shows me nothing but love and greets all my problems with a smile and a helping hand, but I carry this stuff with me anyway. I guess I use him so that every time I'm pissed off I can imagine it's him who I've let down, and not myself.
What's more twisted, that I'm such a self-loather or that I have managed to victimize my parents for loving me? When that other shoe drops, I'm gonna have quite a few years of real trouble, and then I guess we'll see what I'm made of.
manic to a fault
Tonight I paced slowly across teeming oceans, free enough in my mind to forget the things that bind me to my (it means frightened and weak-willed) life as I know it.
With the skill and patience of a young Frank Lee Morris, I search daily for my way out of reality. Now, I am not an abuser in any traditional sense, but I know the gene is there. My excesses themselves are mostly pitiful. But I remember when...
So when I come home, I look for that place. I like the words, and the way she uses them. She is a stranger, because they all are. But that doesn't mean I don't know her. If this is confusing, then you get the faintest glimpse of how I walk through this world. I would equate a feeling with a place, and try to make sense of it for you(me, later)- but what's the point of explaining something that you just want someone to understand? It is, at its core, a disappointment so big, so dramatic, that mere tears cannot explore its sadness. I want to reach out, but I have no consolation to offer.
If there is a moment in a film when I am inevitably disappointed, it is when the final scene fades to black. It is that fake, not-dark-enough movie black that settles on me when I have to go back to being in the action that really tears me down. There has been nothing in my life thus far that would really constitute two hours of screen time, and I still unravel the scenarios that I am faced with according to a codec of 24 fps. The magic of movies owes itself to something called persistence of vision. I see nothing if I don't keep watching.
And I end on this note: we all mean something to somebody, even me. And every one of us underestimates how much that something is. But it doesn't make it easier to take the sunrise. I think I know why Robyn isn't sleeping.
manic
Every day and every night is exactly the same for me. It's a rehearsed scene that I play differently each take. Like a nightmare version of the movie Groundhog's Day. I have the same paralyzing fears, the same bewitching weaknesses, the very same stories to tell.
Notice that I don't often speak of others here? What does that tell you about my thought process?
I'm ready to do the big thing. Make a leap. Actually, it's a tough time to be dramatic, because the world is ready to put a face on the one that will be its end. So whining about poor, poor pitiful me isn't really going to rake the old muck too much now is it? But I'm willing to take up the challenge. I need someone...that's strange, I was going to type the word "something" but "someone" just kind of came out. Anyway, I need someone to live for, something greater than the me that obviously isn't inspiring the hell out of me right now.
A cause, a belief, a person. Someone to lay my offenses down in front of, who can hear the delicately whispered acts of my contrition and not judge me too harshly. Perhaps I just need a villain. Or maybe I am the villain, and I need a hero to make me complete.
