you can use my skin to bury secrets in

I never get sick of that moment. When you feel it hit you, when everything bleeds away into the surrounding noise and you are just there. The slight burn in your throat, the blurring of your senses, and the dangerous knowledge that whatever trangression you were about to committ could have the slightest of excuses. Yes I am still living the collegiate dream despite college ending almost a year ago.

For so long when I was in college, partying was something I tried to hide from you, a mistress that no matter how hard I tried left her scent on my clothes and my eyes glazed and somewhere far away. Lord knows I wanted the freedom to stay out late, have long lingering conversations over jungle juice, enjoy the brief glorious victory of a drinking game won, but your persistent insistence and my obligation to our relationship cut those nights short as I stumbled home meekly to your bed. Love was the tradeoff for those lost nights but I never quite let you get the best of me. You wanted to control me and I refused, you wanted something stationary and solid when I am flighty and difficult to trap.
But no matter, that chapter of my life has closed now.

The more I learn the more I realize how little I know. Is that what scares people from reading/school/expanding their horizons? Certainly the limits of knowledge are frightening and seemingly unsurmountable. Sometimes I think we consume ourselves so fully with the petty trivalities of our lives, particularly sex and love, that when it comes to other matters, we relent for the easiest way, the less mentally taxing. Not for me thank you.
I love a challenge.


Contradicting myself now, I've been thinking about something you said the other day.
"You just want to be loved", you said it as if it was a bad thing. No I am not some affection-starved animal hungering for validation of my existence. You phrased it wrong. You should have said, I just want to love. As much as people can frustrate and exasperate, I always search for the good, the lovable in people. I can't let apathy creep into my entire worldview, although it's fun sometimes to try on for size.

That's enough for tonight. It's windy and blustery outside. Time for wine, a book, then bed.

with your feet on the air and your head on the ground

It was one of the most perfect pairings of music with film I had seen in a while. A man and woman from their perch on a skyscraper watching the buildings fall down amongst them, their gilded corporate cage crashing down and liberating them from the oppressive expectations of a society that they both rejected. What I remember most though was the music, the piercing guttural cry over soft guitar finally punctured by the strong drums-an explosion of sound to mirror the explosion seen on screen. The rush of anarchy that causes them to look at each other wondering "What's next?"

When I think about a perfect song, the song that completely encapsulates everything I have been thinking, feeling, wanting the past couple of years- "Where is My Mind" by The Pixies takes the cake.

"Try this trick and spin it"-if you look at the lyrics realistically, "Where is My Mind" is about a hallucinatory drug trip. Yet in my opinion, the nonsensical lyrics only add to the liberating power of the song. The song refuses characterization or prettiness-it doesn't rhyme or follow typical narrative structure. It just exists, disorienting and twisting and turning around itself which interestingly somewhat accomplishes the similar effect of drug trip.

The song is just brimming with tension and release. The softness of the "ooohhh" countered with the juxtaposing base guitar...the pregnant pauses between the first hit of the drum. The rush that I feel when the hesitation relents into the pounding drum and guitar, to me that's what music...what life is supposed to make you feel. It makes you pause, makes you focus on the present. The release the music brings is mainly the release of the problems of the past and the worries for the future. When you find a song that allows you to feel like that, it's one of the few times that you are ever truly free. You are the music while the music lasts so to speak.

Freud wrote at length about this concept called the death instinct-basically his thought was that all living matter desired to return to a nonliving state. Although this could be somewhat of an explanation for human depression and addiction to destructive substances like drugs and alcohol, I propose a counter theory. Human beings desire such substances and activities like drugs, sex, and rock and roll because it compels you to live in the moment. When you're high or having sex or listening to an intense song you are entirely there, entirely existing in the present. I can't stop listening to this song because it gives me that little moment, the moment when any pressures or worries crash and burn like the buildings in "Fight Club". My state of existence is singing along with crazy Frank Black and pounding along with the irrespressible drums.

Way in the water see it swimming...

"Laura - I want to see you again. No games. Let me know if I'm wasting my time."

act now, think later

action, then regret-such a common constant thread throughout my life.
in truth i am too raw, too impulsive, too primitive to be tamed right now.
for so long, i felt trapped, over protected, constantly watched
have i now equated this with what love is?
i am such a mess of contradictions. i implore you to come closer, care, hold me, then sprint away at the slightest hint of reciprocation.

"laura, you constantly shoot yourself in the foot".

my id has consumed me. i don't understand it- my impulsivity has no root.
there is no vacuous dense void within me. for the most part, i feel filled, complete. perhaps i am an emotional masochist. my gratitude for my comparably easy lot in life comes with an angsty flowering face-my guilt? but enough rationalizing.

i care too much and show it too little. i'm not ready for what you offer although i wish i could be. i'm too young enough to value what you are and immature enough to constantly long for what i can't have.

All I know is what I don't want

Sometimes Dylan puts it best.


I ain't lookin' to compete with you,
Beat or cheat or mistreat you,
Simplify you, classify you,
Deny, defy or crucify you.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

No, and I ain't lookin' to fight with you,
Frighten you or uptighten you,
Drag you down or drain you down,
Chain you down or bring you down.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

I ain't lookin' to block you up
Shock or knock or lock you up,
Analyze you, categorize you,
Finalize you or advertise you.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

I don't want to straight-face you,
Race or chase you, track or trace you,
Or disgrace you or displace you,
Or define you or confine you.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

I don't want to meet your kin,
Make you spin or do you in,
Or select you or dissect you,
Or inspect you or reject you.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

I don't want to fake you out,
Take or shake or forsake you out,
I ain't lookin' for you to feel like me,
See like me or be like me.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you

Morbid Thoughts

I've always had the feeling that mine was going to be a short life. People always look at me like I'm crazy when I reveal that...but I don't maintain this view for shock value. I don't necessarily WANT to die young, I guess that if I were...

Waking Life has this interesting dialouge where a man and a woman discuss her view of her life as though she is recalling memories as a old woman dying in her bed. I see my life as the opposite. I feel is that the way I view my life is that from a perspective of a child visualizing her dreams for the future, seeing her twenties, my current present, as events far into the future rather than undulating in the recesses of the past. Truthfully, from my vantage point, I feel old. I've loved and lost, what other noise is there in life? I suppose to repeat the cycle again. Perhaps, that's why I'm such an adrenaline junkie; I constantly crave new experiences to validate and enrich my existence.

I'll end this bit of enda downer post with some random thoughts:

-If I were to die in some unfortunate circumstances, I would never EVER want my family or friends to start a foundation or organization or even law that would attempt to prevent my death from happening to others. I would never want to have my name or life to be completely overshadowed by my gruesome or untimely end. It's like when musical artists die and because of their passing, they are heralded as visionaries.

-As technologically advanced and intellectually superior we feel to other animals, it's funny how when we go to sporting events, especially hockey games, all we really want to see is in all-out, no-holds barred brawl.

-After watching The Bachelor, it's no wonder guys find 99% of the female population crazy.

Ruminations

Inspired by Aaron Karo:

-Inevitably when going out to restaurants I find myself embroiled in a Catch-22. The waiter or waitress, judging by my young age assumes that I will a. neither rack up the bill significantly and resultingly b. not give them a good tip, so they choose to ignore or completely abandon all serviceable duties towards my table. Now I find myself in a predicament- do I unjustly reward bad service by giving him or her a good tip or do I reinforce her negative assessment of my demographic by tipping him or her what he/she deserves? Eh...I always tip 20% and end up hating myself afterwards but hopefully I've made a little difference in the world for 20-something diners.

-I've realized when it comes to dating, not caring is the new black. I've found myself converted when a guy friend recently confessed his undying love and devotion and instead of reciprocation on my behalf, I kindly told him that I was going to bed.

-Ever have that friend that you always mean to catch up with, but circumstances always prevent the actual conversation from happening, so that the more time that goes on the interminably longer the conversation is going to be so you just keep putting it off cause who has time for a three hour phone conversation? I do.

-I wonder if all the women Anthony Hopkins dates are secretly afraid that he's going to kill them and eat their livers with fava beans and nice Chianti.

-Wikipedia is like Target. You go in there thinking, oh I just need to figure out what the Fermi Paradox is and then thirty minutes later you're learning about the personhood of the Ape. You always end up with more than you bargained for.

-Delivery is almost always better than DiGorno.

-I am always mystified as to why car commercials ever show the test drive with the dummies. Is this supposed to comfort the public? Oh when you are in a head-on collison, your head will probably pop off and some limbs will be bending in the wrong direction, but don't worry about your car!

Aaaaannnd there you go.