Rise of the Molecule
So I was on the train today, coming home from class, when my annoyance spiked. There were people talking to each other like they belonged to some secret community. It's enough that I've never been "socially adept" enough to infiltrate these secret forms of making friends randomly. It's just easier the French way - ignoring people until you have something to talk about.
...all those words that hurt you more than you would let it show...
So I gave up on playing solitare. I just turned up some French music (Kyo - "Tout Envoyer en l'Air") and looked out the window at the "countryside" that would've been there if I weren't in Utah -- in other words, if I were in France.
It's come to my attention - again - that American history is going to hell... the way it's taught anyway. It's sad and enraging. Honestly, I know the truth hurts, but in my opinion, it hurts worse to be lied to your entire life, then you feel dumb for being so brainwashed.
And so you convince yourself that Europe is where it's at and you want to reverse immigrate. Then you go to Europe and, even though they're more socialist (NOT communist), people still refuse government aid. Why? Why can't they let the system work for them? Why do they not want to work and don't want accept help from the government? What kind of life is that?
So then you slowly figure out that nothing is perfect. The acceptance of the truth is one of the most beautiful things.
...you see flowers in these weeds...
So in between homesickness for France while loving Utah, I had a realization: I miss France. I miss the carefree lifestyle, away from all my big problems. Sure, I had close calls with not having money and not having Dustin (you decide which is worse), but it was going to work out. God I love optimism. Things just were okay. Yeah, I stressed, but I think my psyche went on holiday. I get home and *WHAM* I have PROBLEMS. Again. Still. Aargh.
...not a martyr or a saint, scarcely could I struggle through. All that I have ever wanted was to give my best to you...
So I want to be normal again... I'm sick of screaming kids (can't you tell them to be quieter without stifling their expression?), obnoxious cell phones, overly loud voices (we ARE in the same room), random conversations on the train... and I'm sick of understanding all this English. I miss "tu es bête comme tes pieds." Btw, phoenix_dove needs to show me that "special" definition. Get right on that. :)
...no matter where you go, you'll never find your way home...
so. On a happier note, my favorite misheard lyric of this moment is from Alanis Morisette's "Head over Feet." Because I used to be a bad driver.
you've already run me over, in spite of me
Yeah, so now that you know my pickup lines... If only I had a truck. HA! (Inside joke with me. Don't bother getting it. It's dumb.)