(no subject)
I am in a good mood.
That is all.
Ok, fine. That's probably not all, but it's worth noting, as it's uncommon recently (where by recently, it's entirely possible that I mean almost the entirety of my thirties), and bears remembering, and I think that once upon a time, in some misty technicolored past, back when slapping a caption on a cat would get you nothing more than a well deserved clawing, and the "Internet" in internet quizzes was spelled "Cosmopolitan", that this is what people did with their journals. Or so the history books would have me believe.
It won't last, but then, neither will I, nor you, nor anything, and that is dandy. I've always sort of been fond of transience as an abstract concept, even when miserable. Hell, *especially* when miserable. A good rumination on transience is amazingly comforting when you're miserable. You'd almost think I spent years worth of mornings half awake with my parents chanting about impermanence and death in the next room. Oh... wait. Of course there was a lot of "All life is suffering" thrown into the chanting mix there as well, a Truth that I held to be self-evident as an adolescent and probably never really grew out of. Buddhism really is the gothest religion out there.
'Results 1 - 10 of about 551 for "goth buddha"'. Ah, google. What would I do without you? Google apparently thinks that Gerard Way of the band My Chemical Romance is as close a match as we're going to get to that. That seems more than just a little bit disturbing, but apropos of nothing, were you aware that he wrote a very fine comic book? No? Well, he did. It is called Umbrella Academy, and the first issue contains the line "And just as I suspected-- Zombie-Robot Gustave Eiffel!", and if that isn't good enough for you then I'm not at all certain that we can be friends. There's something for everyone there. Zombies. Robots. French Architects. Em-dashes (And here I take a moment to chortle that wikipedia managed to totally nerd the hell out of that entry with a Star Wars reference).
Ok, I lied. I didn't *actually* chortle, but I have skipped recently. And in the BART station, the floors were pleasantly slippery and I pretended to ice skate on my boots while waiting for the train, which was what led me to grudgingly admit that I might be in a good mood in the first place. It is reassuring to me that I am still capable of behaving like a child in some positive manner in addition to the many, many negative ways I do so. I hope you'll take that into consideration before you judge me on the whole not chortling thing. A chortle is really a fairly unappealing thing. You're not missing much.
All of which is to say that 2009 is pretty much ok so far. 2008 sucked. A lot. For most everyone involved, as far as I can tell. Especially up around the end there. Hence the lack of updating on my part. I did actually start an entry at one point, and got as far as two song lyrics and a quote from Synecdoche, New York (my pick for best movie last year BTW), before I was overwhelmed by the bad goth poetry-ness of it all and came to the quite reasonable decision that nobody wanted to hear it. I'm sure that's still the case, but I was always pleased by how well they resonate for me, and they're still essentially true in some way, even if I am feeling more upbeat about them at the moment, so you get to suffer them anyway. Isn't my journal fun?!
Time stands still. All I can feel is the time standing still. As you put down the keys, and say don't call me please, while the radio plays... I think I need a new heart
The last few months I've been living with this couple. Yeah, you know the kind who buy everything in doubles. They fit together like a puzzle. And I love their love and I am thankful. That someone actually receives the prize that was promised by all those fairy tales that drugged us. And they still do me. I'm sick, lonely. No laurel tree, just green envy. Will my number come up eventually? Like love's some kind of lottery, where you scratch and see what's underneath. It's "Sorry", just one cherry, or "Play Again." Get lucky.
The Synecdoche quote isn't entirely accurate, as I never once brought in a notepad the three times I saw it in the theater, but there is an earlier version of the screenplay online, so I just copied what was there.
Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes. Or it seems to, but doesn't really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope for something good to come along. Something to make you feel connected. To make you feel whole. To make you feel loved.
And the truth is I'm so angry and the truth is I'm so fucking sad, and the truth is I've been so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long have been pretending I'm ok, just to get along...
Yup. That pretty much sums up 2008. And if we're being entirely honest, the couple of years before it as well. It might end up summing up 2009 as well, but for now, I'm ok. I was originally going to do some sort of year in media review here, but it's late, and I still have a job I'm mildly resentful of to get to in the morning, so I'm off.
Lay me down and say something pretty. Lay me back down where I wanted to stay. Just say something perfect, something I can steal. Say "Look at me. Baby we'll be fine". All we've got to do is be brave and be kind
That is all.
Ok, fine. That's probably not all, but it's worth noting, as it's uncommon recently (where by recently, it's entirely possible that I mean almost the entirety of my thirties), and bears remembering, and I think that once upon a time, in some misty technicolored past, back when slapping a caption on a cat would get you nothing more than a well deserved clawing, and the "Internet" in internet quizzes was spelled "Cosmopolitan", that this is what people did with their journals. Or so the history books would have me believe.
It won't last, but then, neither will I, nor you, nor anything, and that is dandy. I've always sort of been fond of transience as an abstract concept, even when miserable. Hell, *especially* when miserable. A good rumination on transience is amazingly comforting when you're miserable. You'd almost think I spent years worth of mornings half awake with my parents chanting about impermanence and death in the next room. Oh... wait. Of course there was a lot of "All life is suffering" thrown into the chanting mix there as well, a Truth that I held to be self-evident as an adolescent and probably never really grew out of. Buddhism really is the gothest religion out there.
'Results 1 - 10 of about 551 for "goth buddha"'. Ah, google. What would I do without you? Google apparently thinks that Gerard Way of the band My Chemical Romance is as close a match as we're going to get to that. That seems more than just a little bit disturbing, but apropos of nothing, were you aware that he wrote a very fine comic book? No? Well, he did. It is called Umbrella Academy, and the first issue contains the line "And just as I suspected-- Zombie-Robot Gustave Eiffel!", and if that isn't good enough for you then I'm not at all certain that we can be friends. There's something for everyone there. Zombies. Robots. French Architects. Em-dashes (And here I take a moment to chortle that wikipedia managed to totally nerd the hell out of that entry with a Star Wars reference).
Ok, I lied. I didn't *actually* chortle, but I have skipped recently. And in the BART station, the floors were pleasantly slippery and I pretended to ice skate on my boots while waiting for the train, which was what led me to grudgingly admit that I might be in a good mood in the first place. It is reassuring to me that I am still capable of behaving like a child in some positive manner in addition to the many, many negative ways I do so. I hope you'll take that into consideration before you judge me on the whole not chortling thing. A chortle is really a fairly unappealing thing. You're not missing much.
All of which is to say that 2009 is pretty much ok so far. 2008 sucked. A lot. For most everyone involved, as far as I can tell. Especially up around the end there. Hence the lack of updating on my part. I did actually start an entry at one point, and got as far as two song lyrics and a quote from Synecdoche, New York (my pick for best movie last year BTW), before I was overwhelmed by the bad goth poetry-ness of it all and came to the quite reasonable decision that nobody wanted to hear it. I'm sure that's still the case, but I was always pleased by how well they resonate for me, and they're still essentially true in some way, even if I am feeling more upbeat about them at the moment, so you get to suffer them anyway. Isn't my journal fun?!
Time stands still. All I can feel is the time standing still. As you put down the keys, and say don't call me please, while the radio plays... I think I need a new heart
The last few months I've been living with this couple. Yeah, you know the kind who buy everything in doubles. They fit together like a puzzle. And I love their love and I am thankful. That someone actually receives the prize that was promised by all those fairy tales that drugged us. And they still do me. I'm sick, lonely. No laurel tree, just green envy. Will my number come up eventually? Like love's some kind of lottery, where you scratch and see what's underneath. It's "Sorry", just one cherry, or "Play Again." Get lucky.
The Synecdoche quote isn't entirely accurate, as I never once brought in a notepad the three times I saw it in the theater, but there is an earlier version of the screenplay online, so I just copied what was there.
Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes. Or it seems to, but doesn't really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope for something good to come along. Something to make you feel connected. To make you feel whole. To make you feel loved.
And the truth is I'm so angry and the truth is I'm so fucking sad, and the truth is I've been so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long have been pretending I'm ok, just to get along...
Yup. That pretty much sums up 2008. And if we're being entirely honest, the couple of years before it as well. It might end up summing up 2009 as well, but for now, I'm ok. I was originally going to do some sort of year in media review here, but it's late, and I still have a job I'm mildly resentful of to get to in the morning, so I'm off.
Lay me down and say something pretty. Lay me back down where I wanted to stay. Just say something perfect, something I can steal. Say "Look at me. Baby we'll be fine". All we've got to do is be brave and be kind