Ah nostalgia. I’m reading my old blogs on Myspace. I used to be really proud of these, but now that my naivete has subsided a bit and that chip on my shoulder got bigger and then got buffed out a little, I think they’re kind of funny. I like seeing how my voice has changed. Though it’s more interesting to see what remains the same. The following was posted on March 18, 2005. Before shit really hit the fan. Come, travel back in time with me.
i can’t help falling in love…
I have a nasty habit. I’m always falling in love. ALWAYS. With everything. All the time. It’s not even funny… I’m actually trying to laugh right now, but alas, I cannot.
Yesterday I fell in love with a young man on the train to the city. I loved him because he was dirty. It was ok. He was the right kind of dirty (not the “I need antibiotics” kind of dirty). He was the kind of dirty that the kids who wear Abercrombie and Fitch try to achieve with their purposely-ripped jeans and pomade, but cannot because they do not understand how to rock the grease that your body naturally produces. But this boy, this boy rocked it. He rocked it hard with his dark blonde goatee and his black, wool, thrift store coat. The brim of his worn, grey-blue Cubs hat curved around his head and cast a shadow over his intensely blue eyes. He looked at me once, with his intensely blue eyes, as he searched for a seat. He settled into one at the end of the row of sideways seats, facing me. And as much as I stared at him to study him, not once did he look up at me from his copy of Kerouac’s Dharma Bums. Oh God, how I loved him.
Right now I am in love with a band called Stars (thankyouverymuch for introducing us, Emmy). Ah, there’s something about their music that makes me… lost… I just want to immerse myself in it and swim around in it all day. I can’t say what it is, but it’s like I can feel the music in my chest. It’s beautiful and it’s bittersweet; it makes me breathe deeper and I want to cry happy tears. Maybe it has something to do with the night the band was in town. Emmy bought me a ticket and said I would love this band, and I was all, “Yeah I’m sure I will I like all kinds of music,” not expecting anything mind-blowing. But as soon as we walked into that venue, I knew I was falling in love. And it wasn’t the alcohol that made me fall. It was something about the place and the way the music filled its every corner, and the way the band interacted with the audience, and the people I was with were so cool (Hi Emmy! Hi David!), and the mood of the room was just so… I can’t remember the last time I was so happy. It seemed like everything was in its right place. And I fell in love with the night. I feel like there are just so many beautiful things in this world that just deserve to be loved.
Don’t think that because I love so easy and so much that it means less. If anything, it means more. I mean, crack to the casual user is just a momentary escape from life. But to the junkie, it is life. I guess I’m a love junkie.