October 21st, 2002


Let me tell you about the time I closed her trunk with my face...

Sometimes I feel like Samson. I can feel my hair when I move, and it's so comforting. I don't know how I'd feel, what I'd do, without it wrapped around me. Wondering what it's like to live without it at all. Unburdened? Perhaps. Lonely, too. It's a sword I use inside. That feeling that everyone loves, to simply believe you know more than someone else. Not different, more. Converting life into equations. Weighing apples. Mine > yours.

Rejecting ease. Embracing impediments. The Cuckoo always used to say, in that cheerful tone, that problems only made something more worthwhile. Usually when something was breaking.

I was mulling this morning on whether I was simply brilliant, or my friends were all completely absurd. As much as I'd like to imagine myself wizardly, as much as I enjoy calling people mental, I wonder how much is both, how much is neither. Every time I think I know the answer in a definitive form, someone tips the scale.

Watching Dharma and Greg makes me feel like a Very Bad PersonTM.

Tell me a song you always turn the volume up for.

Tell me a song you choose to keep, but always lower the volume for.

  • Current Music
    Driving the pack, from the rear, with a trumpet, with an axe