1,000 pages later.
hey people, i finished atlas shrugged this morning. ::highfive::
It's funny that sometimes I hear people say, "you're just infatuated with her", or "ehh, it's just an infatuation". What else is there? Infatuation is wonderful and why do I hear it being discredited as some mistaken attraction based on lust. I don't believe that love is fate, I don't believe that you are meant for one person. I don't think love is some kind of utopian emotion that will "find you and take you over" or whatever. Love is something that has to be worked at, constantly maintained. You have to want to love someone, you have control over who you love, you control your love, it doesn't control you. Infatuation is romantic, love is realistic, love is existing. As truly wonderful as love is, I don't think it is found too easily. Infatuation can happen everyday, love is the undesirable result of infatuation. It's so exciting to be infatuated, and once you realize you love someone, it becomes frightening, you become vulnerable. Truly being in love yields a pathetic and gloriously selfless nature. To be at the mercy of whatever someone else desires, or wants, to be dillusioned and naive. Love is necessary and when it's right, there's nothing that can even come close to it. When it goes wrong, it immediately becomes something you'll do whatever you can to forget. It's interesting how it works in those extremes. It's black and white, which makes it pleasantly simple and torturingly simple at the same time. Infatuation makes your heart weak, and love keeps your heart beating. Infatuation makes you act irrational, love makes you think about your actions. Infatuation is love's ignition. I love infatuation, and I'm afraid of love. Although, the scariest thought is to think about never loving anyone. I think everyone is afraid of that, maybe that's why "convenience" is easily mistaken for love. People want it so bad they lie to themselves...now that I think of it--love tows such a tight and deceptive line between disaster and happiness. Lately I've been listening to a lot of Third Eye Blind (I don't like the way Stephen Jenkins sings about sex, it's so "fratboyish") and Tom Petty, old Alkaline Trio and one certain Mellowdrone song. I hope you all had a good thanksgiving, mine was wonderful.
My mind is chained to an idea that I am helpless to actualize. I'm chained like a depthcharge or something, unable to rise to the surface, unable to breath. I suppose there is nothing worse than hoplesness. In some ways it drives me to be homeless, wonder the streets and sidewalks, or maybe I can have an apartment with bare walls and chain locks. I'll just stay in hollywood, have an empty refrigerator and a dirty carpet. I'll become a victim of dillusion, hopless casualty of a dream, much like everyone in hollywood. Dreams are always lovely when you are asleep, but attempting to live dreams can easily become nightmares, sacrificed to the indifferent shrug of reality. It can leave you heartless, the worst picture of existence. Waiting for eternal return, hoping for every possibility of existence to play itself out until something vaguely familiar returns. Something memorable. The loneliest places in the world are the places that have the most wondering strangers, walking and shopping. Waiting for paychecks and weekends to forget about the fact that they live a life that is nothing like the lives the imagined when they were young, lives that were still untouched by seasons and GPA's, resumes and marriage. People start drinking to fit in, they keep drinking to bear with living. Drunkeness pulls the ground out from under you. It weakens gravity. The crowded highways that lead you to work become quite distant. You can exist like the Hindenburg, afloat in glory and celebration until you burn to the ground in a manner in which leaves people talking for years. How interesting, to become a story, a warning, a life lesson on how not to live. What do they know? What does anyone know? What do police know, what do parents know, what do priests know? What do singers and pop stars know, what do presidents and authors know, what do poets know? No one knows your life, no one knows your reasons but yourself, and you can take that as advantage, a sense of pride maybe? Or you can shrink from the isolation of self motivated reason...it's all quite uncertain, living. It's 11 pm and I'm being quite dramatic, but I guess I'm merely letting my mind wonder where it wants. Resigning to my lack of knowledge and understanding is liberating, but to remain in the dark is laziness. Goodnight. Forgive my spelling.
in a middle of a room
"There is no such thing as a Christian child, there is only a child of Christian parents. Whenever you hear the phrase Christian child or Muslim child or Protestant child or Catholic child, the phrase should grate like fingernails on a blackboard"
My good friend got married today. I have known her since I was in Highschool. She is inquisitive, and no matter how bright it is outside, how dark it gets at night, or how cold it may be, she resonates the same warm glow. I remember when we became good friends, it was when I went to UCF. We existed in a world without consequences, or maybe we just didn't think of them. Our friendship was one of the more pure things I've experienced in my life, and it was always platonic. Although, some always thought our behavior was strange, a bit too comfortable and close. One semester in college, we had some classes together. In philosophy, she would always come in the classroom the same way and I swear she was always smiling. And what is great about it, is that I think she smiled right when she saw me. We sould sit there and pass notes to one another and talk about God and politics. We used to fight about politics, and we used to spend the night at each other's apartments. It was like we were 5 years old and didn't know about anything else save for the fact that we simply enjoyed each other's company. I imagine at point I was in love with her, maybe not. You know those friends that you have, or had, that are somewhat responsible for who you are today? She was one...one of the only ones. We would sit in her room and look at old pictures and talk about her favorite jeans, or Saves the Day, she taught me about Elvis Costello and Belle and Sebastian, and had a cat named penny lane. We wondered about families and laughed at how lame we used to be in highschool. She was into Ska when she was in highschool. One time we went to Jacksonville together and saw Saves the Day play, it was spiritual, Saves the Day always have been for me I think. At the show, she found Chris Connely and told him to dedicate a song to me, and he did. "This goes out to Zach from his lady friend", and then they started playing "Holly Hox Forget Me Nots." We've always been close, but that one semester was like a perfect episode of tranquility with a person. I remember laughing constantly, and learning even more. She is complex and analytical, and she knows me too well. She can look at my face and know what I'm thinking. I remember I wrote her a note, and I forget what it said, and she was getting gas at an Exxon and for some reason she put the note on top of her car for a second, and then she forgot about it, it blew away and both of us wonder what that note said. Anyway, she's married now, and her life will never be the same. After a ceremony that lasted no longer than episode of "friends", her life is not soley hers anymore. So I saw her get married and I felt like an outsider there, even though, at the same time, I felt that I knew about her life more than most people there, but thats arrogant and dillusional considering we haven't hung out for more than a day in the last 2 or so years, maybe more. I'm happy for her, she can grow old and lose her ideals and rebellion, not because of anything other than a shfit in focus. Her focus will now be on her husband, and she will get up everyday and worry about him. She maybe won't worry about abortion rights, or the next political election, she won't sit and analyze songs anymore, and she won't worry about seeing bands play, she will wake up every morning with one thing on her mind, being a good Wife to her husband, and in time, a good mother. So that's beautiful, when your priorities shift and your thinking revolves around someone else. Block parties and PTA meetings, a bland suburban existance that is wonderful because of who you love, not because of what you do everyday. I wish her many pleasant Sunday afternoons. Congratulations.
i like my body when it is with your
it may not always be so;and i say
So, I thought I'd check out my itunes and see what I've been listening too lately, because whenever someone asks me that, I can never remember. So, let's check it out.
My friend Jess sent me this link and it's glorious.
I read this on CNN.com tonight
I bought some music today, Bob Dylan and the band, Bright Eyes, and Sebadoh...so far, I like the Dylan the best, but I think that's just because i've been listening to it. Today, Jacob powered through four more songs, the boy is on fire and I love it. I'm becoming more and more excited about the songs each day, I can't wait to lay some guitars down. Ok, so if anyone who is interested in guitars is gonna read this blog, what amp would you like to use the most? Marshall, Matchless, Sound City, Orange, Vox or Bogner. I'm on the fence here and I'm not sure what direction I want to go. I think I want to hit up the Marshalls first, for some reason...but I'm gonna try all the amps out. I feel like an idiot lately, my brain isn't really working. It isn't diving into any thought, it's just circling around some vague, pointless functions. I guess I've been thinking about the record recently, and analyzing it, thinking about what I want to do. Althought, it is all relatively foggy as far as details go...I don't want to overthink anything though. Last night was Halloween and it is probably my least favorite holiday behind Easter. When I was growing up, I didn't look forward to any holidays that didn't let me miss a day of school. Easter always required me to dress up extra nice for church, ughh. I'm sitting at this computer dazed right now, I am certain that I would be of no entertainment to anyone right now, merely because my mind is doing its own thing. Tonight, I'm drinking wine, and listening to a collection of songs that Bob Dyland recorded with The Band in some basement in Saugerties, NY...it's good. I wish I coulda been there to say the least. Hey, if you could relive one musical moment in history, what would it be? Interesting question perhaps, or what would it be like to relive any moment in history. It boggles my mind, history that is. I'm still reading Ayn Rand, her philosophy is something that I can only agree with on certain levels, but I wonder how her philosophy played into feminism. I mean, she is all about extreme individualism and empowerment to make oneself happy, not considering the well being of others, although, the sexual scenes in her books almost play out like rapes in some cases, very forceful and submissive on the woman's part, although, at the same time, it is always depicted as some fulfillment of base desires (or what the world thinks of as "base" desires) and that is merely satisfying oneself. I guess the confusion comes in the way she describes the scenes. I swear, I remember reading The Fountainhead and I could've sworn the hero in this book (Howard Roark) pretty much raped Gail Wynan. Oh well, knowing me and my lack of reading between the lines, I'm completely missing something.