Friday, March 14, 2003

Monday I was in the midst of drinking an entire bottle of white wine while I was writing. Tonight I'm a few hours past a mug of Miller Light, so there may be less whimsy in my words.

Do you ever want to live in a photograph? To eternally live in that tingling you get from a perfect moment caught on film. What if you could stretch out that second of bliss into an entire lifetime. Maybe that's what heaven is like.

I spend a good portion of every day imitating something. It varies every day, and I suppose most people never see me do it, but there is always something that someone does (the tone of a sentence, the modulation of a person's walk, a facial expression) that I mimic the moment I see it. I do it without thinking and with complete disregard for those around me because I forget that they can see me. For this reason alone I think I'm pro-cloning, simply because then I could watch myself and laugh at how rediculous I must look.

I have no problem being emotionally naked. If someone wants to know, they can know everything about me. Since anyone reading this is doing so out of choice, I'll forthwith disengage my phobias of being perceived as egotistical or weak or naive or whiny.

This morning, while thinking about going to Ikea in the afternoon, I thought about Fight Club and had a revelation. My obsession with Fight Club began after my first viewing of the film freshman year while visiting a friend at Georgetown during fall break. Soon I had the poster, the book, the screen saver, and an insatiable desire to separate myself from all that is capitalism and our consumer-driven society. My obsession ended in a blaze of unheralded tears the following summer with a violent tearing down of the poster from my bedroom wall at home as well as throwing the book across the room after a heated argument with my father. Perhaps it was a pent-up teenage moment that had never occured because I had held it in. Anyway, after that day I still respected the film and what it made me think about and realize about myself and the world, but I found that holding on to that movie too much made me dependent on it (something the movie tries to dissuade its viewers against). To get back to today, my revelation was that getting rid of one's possessions would not lead to the path of enlightenment, but rather, when one reaches enlightenment, those possessions will metaphysically disappear on their own accord. It still doesn't tell me how to get to enlightenment, but I felt it was a step in the right direction. Plus, then I still get to enjoy all the "stuff" at Ikea.

I wouldn't say so if someone asked me, but I've come to realize that I am a very strong person. The hardest part is allowing myself to be weak and tired every now and again. I'm constantly carrying around other people's secrets and troubles, being strong for them, and I don't allow myself to weaken because I need to be strong for them. I don't know if I enjoy it or just accept it. I'm always flattered that people are comfortable with talking to me, but I sometimes wonder if they do it simply because they know I'm safe, they know I'm stable and strong. Because then I HAVE to be that way for them, I can't watch people fall if I can carry their burden a little farther. All of this usually results in a one day, completely solitary, excruciatingly emotional outburst of tears and screams and sobs and whimpers that serves as my personal passion cleansing and purification, and I can start over again. It's like a phoenix's fire for my soul. These happen about a year or two apart. Here's a poem I once wrote about my body of secrets, but let me preface it by saying that I'm not talking about anyone in particular, this is a call to everyone for honesty, not for people to feel guilty or ashamed or afraid I'm going to reveal their particular secret. Anyone who's opened up to me knows me better than that.


You think I'm strong
I know I'm scared
You open up
I now must care

With me you're sure
With you I'm fine
It's off your chest
It's on to mine

I won't complain
They'll never know
Your secret's safe
The weight won't show

I don't blame you
I'm glad to help
We can't all be
Strong by ourselves

I'm in between
That's where I stay
I know all sides
There's nothing grey

I wish you'd set
Your secrets free
Instead of locked
Inside of me


But enough with secrets. Ever have someone you respect or admire drop a line that just floors you and makes you feel like you have nothing worthy to offer and you can't imagine being on the same level as that person? Yeah, it's such a bittersweet moment. You're so captivated by the brilliance or beauty or synergy of that person, but you want so badly to be able to do the same. It makes me want to be five-years-old again, to do things over in a desperate hope to parallel this magnificent person. I've had a few of those moments lately. Damn you, amazing people I know. And I mean that with the utmost, jealous respect.

It's 3am on Thursday night/Friday morning, the time I affectionately call the "creative time." Creative time isn't a very creative title, but that's beside the point. I see this as the time when you can think most outside of your conditional ways of thought and movement because your brain is used to dreaming. In dreams you can do anything, so if you're awake, you can harness that freedom and make something tangible out of it.

So I've said before that I have an obsession with candles. Here's one for y'all to check out: "Crisp Orchard" by Bed Bath and Beyond. It's one of the scents for their own hand poured candles. I don't even have to light this candle. I just keep it around to smell when I want to smile. It can actually do that. It makes me happy just smelling this candle. Now that's power. I'll light it when the others run out....hehe, which may never come.

I'll end this with a recommendation: go see Old School. Funny shit. Made me laugh pretty damn hard. And the actress who plays Nicole speaks with the same intonation and style that makes Renée Zellweger so alluring.