I woke up yesterday still high off the victory over BHS, and went to bed feeling the same. As I looked outside, the sky was blue and cloudless and life was good.
Took my sis to a volleyball game, hung with ken and dave and misha and cynda at dave's eagle scout project for a while (apparently, my lack of experience with a shovel is obvious, but when questioned, I was only told I look "cute" with it) and then I picked up rach to go to the soccer game. Sadly, the MMMGravy Rangers (I beleive the actual name is the latter) lost 1-0 despite vastly outplaying the other team. (As a side note, ND did indeed win, making my teams go 2 for 3 this weekend...not a bad showing.) After the game, rach and I drove to CJ's (following ken most of the way) for food. Somehow, I managed to shift into reverse instead of drive and my car turned off. Upon further examination, there was absolutely no damage to my beautiful automobile, I was just slightly shaken. Lucky I saw that "batter power activated" warning light. After CJ's, rach, magda, cynda and I drove on down to cory's, where I ate food and drank gatorade with many other people. Then I took rach home (poor gal was all tired up) and picked up karo before returning to cory's. At cory's, they had "voted" to not go to the polish festival, and both karo and I really wanted to go. Her being the nice person she is, I took over the role of "bitchy assertive guy who WILL get his way" and more or less flatly stated that everyone else could do whatever it is they wanted, me and my car were going to the friggen polish festival and I was taking my hot blonde pole with me! (Refering, of course, to maggie). Luckily, Cynda also wanted to go...making my coup complete. With every one of the single girls present eager to go, and all riding in my car, I basically assured that the rest of the party would come too (though, I admit...I hadn't exactly planned on it. All I wanted at that point was to see what the excitement about this polish festival was, since I doubt I can go today.) I was a bastard on the drive down and strictly enforced my policy of no more than 3 passengers in my car. I still haven't broken that policy for any substancial distance yet (that I can recall). The polish festival rocked. Me high from victory plus polish tea plus rock-type music equals very dazed and happy john. And polish food. That was really good too. I think the coolest thing I saw was Mr. Redyk dragging karo out to the dance floor...it was so incredibly cute. I love that guy. AND HE SPEAKS POLISH! Some drunk dude tried the same and was quite lucky he didn't succeed in his nefarious attempts...I don't take kindly to 20-somethings trying to drag off my amigettes. ;D
The drive back was typical of such things, no speeding tickets or accidents and a great deal of talking. That was a trend for the day, actually. Funny how that always works out...its possibly the biggest advantage to driving (or having a good friend who drives). When else do you get to sit for hours, just talking? (Not hours continuously...the way I drive, its a long drive indeed that takes more than half an hour.) Regardless...that, perhaps more than anything else, made my day.
A lot of the drama that's been plagueing me seems to have worked itself out and life seems almost perfect again. And with all the rage I took out on bhs, I should remain calm for quite some time. Maybe even a full week. :D
It's weird how when you decide to just go out and do something, it manages to get done. Practice today was argueably my best this year. It began with a rocky start...having to return that note to Ms. Poppi almost made me late. There was definately a dead sprint involved in my rush out to the field.
In chutes today, though, I killed. Jammed Frucktel in there several times (he's arguably the best lineman on the team), pushed my way out, and apparently impressed Massey with my dedication (when my feet slid out and I ended up crawling at Willams instead of actually blocking him).
Then, Massey told me to go in on defence...through some combination of luck and skill, I made three excellent tackles in a row. Almost got four, but by then the backers had realized that running right towards me was a Bad Idea and he bounced outside.
Somehow, during defensive fudementals, I made a perfect block and was used by Massey as an example of what to do. Same thing happened again in the next drill. Massey commented that if I kept that up for a few more days, he'd promise I'd have a starting spot (along with calling me the Gatorade Player of the Practice). Written here, it almost sounds like he was sarcastic, but he was dead serious at the time.
I think things went so well because I was emotionally and physically ready to beat somebody up, but wasn't so angry that I lost my form. Football is therapy, as I've said before.
I still have that surreal feeling of good about me. I blame the Pilgramage for this and doubtlessly will be unhappy when the feeling finally departs. For now, though, I'm just riding the wave. I think it all comes back to love. Allen lectured today on how love was the most important virtue, etc. but I think its a lot more than that. Anything that is this powerful must be extremely important...I'd venture so far as to say the meaning of life is love. Perhaps we'll be judged not by what laws we broke but by how well we loved others. Think about it...not only did Jesus sum up the commandments into two sentences about love, but you can look at the 10 commandments and easily say that at the root of all of them IS love. If you truely love those around you, you will not be sinful. Or something like that.
My ability for coherent thought is vanishing quickly. Suffice to say, I feel incredibly loved these days. And I love those near and dear to me. I'm not sure I can say (its still hard to look someone in the eyes and say those words, at least when you're serious...I'm sure that'll return with time) but I definately feel it.
I'm unbearably excited for friday. I apparently might get to go visit schools (not sure yet, though...still gotta actually talk with ms. poppi about it) and then bhs. Quit telling me what you'll do if we lose...a) we won't b) you won't really do it c)I'd kick your ass if you tried d)I appreciate the enthusiasm, but it accomplishes nothing. Wanna help the team? Just come to the game and scream your lungs out. That'll suffice. Oh...and you could pray we don't get any injuries. Injuries would be bad. Heh.
It appears the apology was accepted...mm...wonder if things have finally worked out. That would be nice.
Wow.
That's all I can say about it.
Sure, there are a million stories and about 160 people all with their own take waiting to tell them, but the stories cannot sum up ot the experience.
I walked in the pouring rain and didn't care. Sure, it wasn't that long or fast and I wasn't really sore at all, but the pure length could easily have been enough to cause me to choose to give up. To stop and catch a ride, excusing away my actions by saying "Well...I have a game friday and hills monday. Better safe than sorry." I didn't though...my friends kept me going. Rather hard to quit when others are fighting so much harder than I and refuse to give up. Chuka, you're my hero man...now and forever.
I'd let myself forget how truely amazing it is to have someone's eyes light up when they see you and then they run/jump/rush to embrace you. There were a few (priceless) ones of those on friday and even more over the weekend.
There were people I didn't think would want to talk with me who did, and people I didn't think would walk with me who did. There were those moments when i suddenly felt like I was actually part of some greater "class" instead of an individual walking along the road in a mass of other individuals.
There was ken's loving massage of my smelly feet, and the songs around the campfire, and an unspoken apology that seemed to be accepted.
There were more hugs...I think I grabbed/was grabbed by everyone within a 2 row radius at mass. There was the cuddling to keep warm with friends both new and old.
Songs around the campfire, roasting in the flames, ben's shoes on fire, my falsetto, finally sitting down and being joined by everyone.
And need I mention the busride back, where I actually felt...safe, I guess. Safe enough to pass out completely, for the entire duration of the ride home. That's pretty rare for me...I normally sleep lightly enough that I'll cycle through wake and sleep continually, never settling on one. There were the apparent "awkward moments" and the reassuring fact that they didn't even matter. There was sitting on a bench at school when it was all over, just comfortably sitting with people I knew cared, looking at others who felt the same way.
Then there was the shower when I got home. Heavenly.
And then Mr. Massey's mass...I almost cried. I was so very close. I need to thank you for being there...it helped knowing that if I did end up crying, there was one person there who would just hold me instead of wondering why I was crying for a man's death when I had never known him. (Simple answer: Massey's been...my inspiration, my teacher, practically a father to me, for the last three years...seeing him so close to the edge brought me close to the edge...he's far stronger than I.)
Then sipping limeaids and carrying on one of those long conversations where you discuss everything and nothing all at once and you can just let your mind wander.
Then Sky Captain, which I loved to death and laughed at continually, me making little airplanes outof starburst wrappers and chucking them around, rach passing out on my sholder again, a long row of friends all sharinmg time together...heaven.
And then a hellishly long football practice that was all the better when we all survived, a trip out to dinner with my sis, and a brief stint watching the soccer team scrimmage and helping vent another's anger, while my own slowly slipped away...heaven.
Suffice to say, this weekend was the best I can recall in quite some time. Its almost like being back on the encounter. Same love...and love sustains so much better than hate.
Now to avoid doing anything to a certain southridge punk with my bat...mmm...
This is why I don't burn movies at home in any quantity anymore. I started one at around 9:30, it managed to have some little error and didn't burn in the threeish hours it should have taken. Instead, I reburned it from 12-3 AM, then had to get up at three and start the next one, which is finishing as I type this. Do the math...I didn't get more than three hours of consecutive sleep at all during the night. To top things off...the sleep I did have was filled with rather unpleasant dreams. I doubt I really slept, even...it was a constant cycle of drifting off, dreaming for a few minutes, and waking up. Blah.
...either that, or I am. I don't suppose it really matters which it is so far as I'm concerned. Either life is the cause or I am, but the effect is the same. Plus, I can't escape life and I can't escape myself.
The more I hurt physically from football, the better I feel psychologically (mentally, emotionally, whatever) and vice versa. Most painful times are at night right before I fall asleep when my body mysteriously stops hurting and my head and heart start up again. Which, I assure you, is worse.
I hate the mixed messages people send. Its easy with some people...they treat you one way when they're mad at you and another when they're not. But what do you do when someone does something they wouldn't do if they were mad, yet when you try and talk to them, they still act as though they were incredibly pissed off? I really don't know.
The sad part is...I'm really just tired of trying. Completely. I've begun questioning whether what I've defined as love for the past few years is really love or just delusion. In order for something to be real it must exsist outside my own mind. All evidence seems to be to the contrary...people I've beleived love me have not acted in a manner befiting this word (no, I'm not criticizing them, or anyone...just commenting that my vision of love doesn't match up with my experience with people who say they love me) and I haven't acted in such a manner towards the people I will wholeheartedly profess to love. You called me an idealist and tried to warn me it'd get me into trouble...I think it has. The world isn't what I thought/beleived it was...nor is it what I want it to be. It almost seems to be morphing into some dark twin of the world I once happily embraced. I had high hopes for this year...while it still is going well, I think my hope is gone. Hard to hope when the thing that's been giving you hope suddenly vanishes, though. I wonder if I can trust anyone (including myself) that way again...I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry I failed myself.
Doesn't matter, though. At least I've learned I can go on despite shitty things, that the human heart is resilant, that those things I now cling to as matters of life and death will one day be but faint memories of a distant and unimportant time. That's what keeps me going. Well, that and football.
I hate it...ever since I found out coach's father died, I've been feeling kinda down. Combined with my own previous misguided actions and their rather predictable results, its been getting harder and harder to smile in those quiet moments when i'm alone. Which, as I again become antisocial, are more and more often. I honestally am dreading the pilgramage...I seem to be fine around other people, but this is a retreat type thing. Its designed to help with these kinda things...and yet I know it can't. And I'll be unable to hide from myself. The best part is the questioning...why did I do this, why didn't they do that, why did this have to happen now, and so on. I get no peace from sleep, as my dreams are all ones I've had before, only scewed. I see the things I wanted to do or did, but now they're overshadowed by the knowledge they'll never happen or did happen, but were really fake or doomed.
*sigh*
I guess you could say I'm a functional wreck...my mind and body work fine (I suppose) but the heart has been taken out of everthing I've done this week. The only emotion I feel is sorrow, even the rage I had been feeling takes too much energy. I fantasize about it, though...what I would do if someone jumped me in the hall, or hit me with a bat, or something to warrant the responce I've been longing to give. Hit me three times...that's all I need to unload all of this. Or that's what part of me keeps saying. Three strikes is the rule in some states for when you can legally do anything short of kill your attacker (three unreturned strikes, that is). I don't think it applies in Oregon, but if I wait for three hits, I'll be mad and will feel no guilt afterwards. And no remorse is a luxury I am not often provided these days.
I'll be fine, I guess, I just don't enjoy the stars anymore...they seem tainted and ugly. They're pure and bright and fake. Nothing like that can exsist, everything is flawed. I will never find my peice of perfection. I just wish I could be confident it was a fluke...because then I would stop doubting everything else. Or I wish I knew it wasn't, so I could cut all the strings. As it is...I'm stuck, indecisive, in the middle.
God, how I hate apathy...at least hatred shows feeling. Please, won't you hate me? I don't expect you to love me again, but seeing nothing in your eyes...kills me. Every time. Combined with empty gestures..."strumming my pain with your fingers, killing me softly with song."
Whatever. Forgive me if my mind seems elsewhere for a while...I assure you, it has nothing to do with you. I'm just trying to find the parts of me that seem to be missing and figure out who I am. I just wish this were easier. But then, it wouldn't be life if it wasn't hard, wouldn't be life if it wasn't weird.
I found out today that Coach Massey's father died on Sept. 11 this year.
When KP told us...I almost cried. That's...not right. I don't cry. At least barely ever, and even rarer are tears of sadness instead of tears of rage/extreme pain. Then, when Massey talked to us about respecting the flags, his dad being a a vertran, etc....I almost teared up again. Somethings definately not working right in my head.
Question to the readership...can a consistant patter of good habbits, or good deeds, counterbalance moments of evil and wrongdoing? That is, does doing your best to be a good person most of the time offset those times you find yourself being simply terrible?
Further question: how do you judge a persons "goodness"? Is it thoughts or actions that count? Or perhaps some combination?'
I keep oscillating between anger, joy, and sorrow. I think I've got it under control to the point that most people take no notice, but its definately there. I'll know I've hit rock bottom when I go from doing a happy dance in the halls to bawling like a baby to decking someone, then repeating this cycle.
About the only really positive thing I can say is that I've finally let go. The pain seems to be gone. I think a large part is the acknowledgement that I did it almost intentionally. An equal part is probably the realization that other people care as much or more, too.
I am now forced to doubt whether love is real or purely imaginary, though. More on this when I figure it out...for now, I'm sleeping.
...or helped save one. It was in the middle of the street, I chased it out of the way of the cars and over to the curb, then rach came and threw it off the street. I couldn't pick the bugger up...she had much more skill. It did bounce a good two feet on impact, though...and then it ran off. Just thought I'd share this bit of do-gooding with my attentive audience.
I love how I am, at least sometimes, a complete and total asshole. I know I am, I recognize fully that what I'm doing/about to do/just did was very assholish, and I still do it. There isn't even much remorse there...sure, I feel bad if I hurt someone, but I don't feel bad about being an asshole. I think its just who I am.
The funniest part is when someone else, someone who doesn't really know me or understand what's going on, completely misreads a situation. And tries to talk me down from my pedastool of jerk. Of course I realize I'm pissing someone off...do you really think I can be THAT annoying that consistantly by accident? Especially when you barely know the person I'm annoying, and I know them incredibly well. Take a small hint from the fact that everyone else got the idea and gave me the space to be me. Hell, even the target of my assholeness was aware of what I was doing and didn't stop it. So please, while I appreciate the jesture and all...don't waste your breath trying to tell me "hey dude...I think you really made them mad. You gotta stop now." Possibly, just possibly, I was trying to get YOU to walk away for a second so I could say some shit that had to be said. And possibly, just possibly, that's why they slowed down and no one else did. I challenge you to improve your social awareness so that such things do not happen in the future. Face it...people around me either get pissed off with me or don't. Please don't try and change that fact...its much better than no one noticing you. But you probably knew that.
Sorry about that bit of rantness...I'm not angry or bothered, really, just really really amused. I'm forced to wonder, though, how often the shit I do is over the top. As I say, rach has never hit me. And the only time the people who know me have told me to drop shit was late at night when I carry on jokes too far. I have this vision of me in a year being the person everone in college despises for some reason or another. For some reason, that doesn't bother me at all. I think there's a "bad" side of me that wants to be hated. I'm really a self-defeating asshole...the more I care about something, the more of a jerk I become. Except when I feel at all needed/wanted in a situation. The people who consistantly need/want me around I'm really pleasant too. Same with the ones where I understand why they want to be around me. Its only when I no longer can understand what someone else gets outta a friendship that I really become an asshole to them. I guess I subconciously want to drive them away or test how deep the friendship goes. If I can pull a ton of shit and we stay friends, then I'll be ok. Better to find out how shallow it is intentionally than accidentally...I like only being able to blame myself. Keeps me from getting angry at other people.
I love how the only reason I did anything afterwards was a freak accident involving rach's car and another car. Still, her and samwise took dougie, A, and I to red robin.
You greet the actors after a play, but you don't even stay to watch all the game. Thanks guys. I'd almost rather you didn't come than came and left, degrading the game to less than the movie you payed a few bucks for. The very least you could do was TELL me when I asked you, and you agreed to wait around after, that you didn't give a fuck what happened at the game and were only there because its something to do. I don't care if you come to watch me play (hell, for at least the next few weeks, you better not be there to see me play) but quick being the apathetic psudeofans that are destroying Jesuit athletics. Yeah, maybe you go to all the games...but you don't stay. Where's the support there? Please...don't come next week. I'd feel better knowing you were off doing what you were doing and had deemed the game unimportant enough to attend rather than being excited because you agreed to come, happy to see you in the stands...and then you're gone. Fuck that. Maybe I suck now, but our team is pretty damn good. We have a chance to be excellent. And you really don't care. That's alright...just QUIT PRETENDING! I swear...if any one of you asks me about the game tomorrow or monday...
What am I saying, I'll be over this by tomorrow. Sleep and all that. But still...with the exception of the people who stayed due to freak chance (and even then, had that chance not occured, they STAYED AT THE GAME TILL THE END!), I'm really hurt by my friends complete lack of enthusiasm for my team. I came to your games when I could, I never left, hell, I'm your biggest fucking cheer leader. I'll support you however I can...I'd think the least you can do is see the game out. Whatever.
And to the one who actually offered congrats...thanks. I didn't expect you to stay, or really, to come. But thanks...it does mean something. Specially after everything.
Oh, and if you get sick, different story...no hard feelings for leaving. But leaving for food...lame. Way to support your school. With fans like these, its a wonder we have a stadium.
Yeah, I'm really pissed right now. I let myself beleive something and had that beleif shattered. Guess I'll never insist again "No man, they're still here...they promised to stick around after. And they wouldn't leave our game early. They'd wanna see the end and talk to us." Fuck it.
I had your cd, btw...but you weren't there. Nor were the cookies. You can get it whenever you come to my car...and you can wait with the cookies, if you want. Save 'em for a special occasion.
At least the winds icy caress still wisks away my tears without a trace, and the nights deep silence swallows my screams of rage. Minus the people on the sidewalk who stared as I vanished into darkness.
One day, I'll just keep my foot there...maybe I'll catch fire.
No matter what I do, I crash and burn. Dunno what I'll do on the day one of you isn't there to pick up the scorched peices. I love you...thanks more than words can say. You keep me sane. Or maybe just alive. ;D
I forgot how good it was. Sitting around, suckin on a popsicle, unable to move...yeah.
And some how, everything is fine again. Its surreal, almost. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and it never did. Maybe this time I've learned something.
Thanks, love.
My prayers are with you, my friend...please keep holding on. I'd never forgive myself if you chose to let go. Please never run where I can't follow.
Possibly the most beneficial vaction I can remember. No joke. Drove out there friday evening, slept for 12 hours that night, woke up the next day and crawled into the hot tub for the rest of the morning. Then I spent the rest of the weekend doing more of the same, some homework, a lot of golf (I got pretty damn good over my year of not playing, too...my dad was most impressed), and some canasta. And eating too.
Most importantly, I took about 4 hours every night before I went to sleep to pray/meditate/stare at the ceiling and think. And about an hour each morning to try and figure out what on earth my dreams the night before had been about. I did figure some things out. To begin with, I can't blame someone else when I knowingly brought about events. I can't think of another way to say that, considering I knew exactly how they would respond to my comments and still let myself get hurt and angry when they did exactly what I knew they'd do. I furthermore decided I shouldn't watch weird movies before going to sleep...the dreams they produce are hellish and frightening. That, and no four-wheeling for John anytime soon. I don't want to flip my car in real life.
I hope the rest of you all had as relaxing a weekend as I did...judging by the tempo of school over the first week, we're all going to need it.
I'm in Sunriver until about noon monday, I won't be doing anything social this weekend. No time for it.
If you desperately need/want to talk to me, call or text the celly with a message. I won't respond, though, unless its important. Sorry...but in light of last night and today, I'm using this as a most welcome opportunity to get the hell away for a while and get some stuff worked out in my head and cool off. I know I'm fucked up when I intentially try to convince other cars to hit mine so I can go beat the shit outta them. Or something like that. For those counting, the new record from cronin home, with traffic, is 5:20. Double the limit all the way.
However, if you are one of those people who have a really good reason to call me...go ahead. I'll do what I can to help you out, I know what its like to just need to talk. I'll try and check messages every night and return relevant calls.
Oh...and about a certain situation...I really will break his fucking fingers if he does it again...feel free to tell him that, if you think it will help...it'll do both me and you a ton of good...trust me ;D
And to me amigo who offered to fight me...I really appreciate the thought behind the offer, but kicking the shit outta you would only make me feel worse. I need to find a real asshole who already has it coming. ^ ^ (other than me, of course, cause kicking one's own ass is really hard.)
Thanks for the thoughts, though, but don't worry about me...I'll be alright. Just gotta blow off some serious steam...2 and a half years is a long time...I woulda thought it meant more than that.
You don't need this, fine. I always revolved around you anyways. I'll leave you alone, don't take it as an insult, its what you seem to want. If you change your mind about things and decide you can say "what you can't say", fine, otherwise, leave me alone too. I got enough problems as it is without facing this one from up close. I just hope in 5 years you either don't remember this moment or you can look back and think it was the right move. Cause if you can't...I'd hate to think I went through this for nothing. A little bit of me died last night. Like you care, though.
Like you care.
It would figure this would happen the day after I rediscover Konstantine. Maybe that song always was a bad omen. Too bad I didn't think of that before.
Song of the weekend:
"Ghosts Of You And Me" - Less Than Jake
I've been down
wandering past 2nd street
and looking at the ghosts
of you and me and thinking back on
all those memories of how we used to be
I've been hearing
hear those voices
of the noises of the breaking glass
and all those plans we had to get us through
they're never coming true
And I hope and hope
that you won't forget
and I hope you, hope you know
that I can clearly see
The ghosts of you and me
'cause I'm just a long-gone memory
and you're still alive
and I'm still getting by
on these dead end streets
the ghosts of you and me
I'm still talking
talk of what we'll do
to the ghosts of me and you
and I'm still looking back into the past
when we were all we had
And I hope and hope
that you won't forget
and I hope you, hope you know
that I can clearly see
[Chorus]
the ghosts of you and me [x2]
Hope you won't forget
hope you know that I'll always regret
those things I said
hope you know that I can clearly see
[Chorus]
the ghosts of you and me [x3]
Yeah...
Today was really the stereotype of my life. I slept in, got to school and hung out with some friends in the PAC (looking at pictures of a friend when she was younger...very cute ^ ^), went to classes and tried to stay awake while having no difficulty convincing the teacher I was paying rapt attention, went off to CJ's for lunch and got my bacon western, partied in tech before putting up with two more boring classes, then headed to a football meeting where I was given free food. After that, I hung out in the halls some more and managed to piss no less than two friends off, chased one around for a little while after getting water poured all over me, and was called multiple names ranging from "jerk" to "insensitive insufferable prat!" while the other expressed her displeasure by simply ignoring me again. Yay. I then met up with rach and helped her lift some stuff, talked tech for a while, then we all headed over to cynda's where we played on the trampoline. It's possible to reduce rach to manic laughter just by bouncing her around. Who knew? :D
Dylan said all of one word to me, then ignored me for the rest of the time I was there. That pissed me off. Part of why I came was in the hopes of seeing him. That's fine, though, I'm not gonna allow ANYONE to tell me who I can and cannot associate with. Especially not when the person in question could really use some good friends right now and the person telling me to not hang with them is acting like a friggen asshole towards them.
Then teh Jamboree, where I was in for about a third of the defensive plays against LO and got tons of free food and comforted cynda after her car was borrowed. Then I drove home screaming AK3 at the top of my lungs.
As I say, the stereotype of my life. There was one exception though, or one possible exception. Before games, I take some time by myself, usually in junior hall, to gather my thoughts and prepare myself mentally. Today, all I wanted to do was cry. Haven't felt like that in a while. I'm not entirely sure why, either. I guess in part I feel like I'm failing myself, my old coaches, my parents, or even the people I've let beleive I was good at football for so long by not having a starting spot, or even a definate second string spot. I had zero plays of offence today, an unthinkable occurance three months ago. And I knew I wouldn't get any.
The other part was my lack of control over myself. I've been working really, really hard to get over some things and move on in life and its just not working for me. I'm being ruled by my emtions instead of ruling them. This afternoon, I wanted to bust in a locker, scream really loud, or find someone to get into a fight with and have the crap kicked outta me. I still do, actually...football didn't exhaust me like usual. Probably cause I played so little. Whatever.
I get to "escape" to sunriver this weekend. Forget all about school, football, social crap, everything, and just zone out for a weekend. I was upset I "had" to go last weekend, now I'm looking foreward to it. A ton.
Yeah, I'm sharp as a fucking marble. Maybe, if I'm lucky, your next look will actually cut me. I'd love to bleed some of this shit outta my system. Pity I'm too weak to do it myself.
Fuck you, my love, fuck you. You don't need this, I don't need this, maybe one day you'll finally throw me away for good...then I could let go. Until then...yeah, I fucking love you...and I hate you...I wish this would all stop...
Fuck it.
I made a friend a cd for her birthday...it was actually the first real "mix" I've made in ages, one where I actually stopped to think about the order and content of the songs, and considered whether or not its intended audience would enjoy them or not. (Normally I make cd's all of one artist or as per a request and don't put much time into them.) The final song I picked was Konstantine by Something Corporate, a song I more or less stopped listening to for some reason last year. It still qualifies as my favorite song of all time, though my favorite rendition of it was not done by the original artist but by another friend of mine who touched me deeply by singing it for me. The song is so full of meaning to me, not only for the lyrics and intended subject but also for the interpetation I've placed on it, the cirucmstances of my introduction to the band, the first time I heard it live, and the fact that it is one of the few (only?) peices of music that can regularly move me to tears.
In honor of this long lost love that has returned to me, I'm posting the lyrics here.
Konstantine - Something Corporate
I can't imagine all the people that you know
and the places that you go
when the lights are turned down low.
And I don't understand all the things you've seen,
but i'm slipping in between
you and your big dreams .
It's always you
in my big dreams....
And you tell me that it's over,
wake up lying in a patch of four leaf clovers.
And you're restless, and I'm naked;
you've gotta get out,
you can't stand to see me shaking.
No, could you let me go?
I didn't think so....
And you don't wanna be here in the future,
so you say the present's just a pleasent interruption to the past.
And you don't wanna look much closer,
cause you're afraid to find out all this hope
you had sent into the sky by now had crashed.
And it did,
because of me....
And then you bring me home,
afraid to find out that you're alone.
And I'm sleeping in your living room,
but we don't have much room to live....
I had these dreams that I learned to play guitar,
maybe cross the country,
become a rock star...
And there was hope in me that I could take you there,
but dammit you're so young,
well I don't think I care...
And if I hurt you,
then i'm sorry.
Please don't think that this was easy....
And then you bring me home,
afraid to find out that you're alone.
And I'm sleeping in your living room,
but we don't have much room to live....
And Konstantine is walking down the stairs,
doesn't she look good?
Standing in her underwear...
And I was thinking,
what I was thinking,
we've been drinking and it doesn't get me anywhere...
My Konstantine came walking down the stairs,
and all that i could do is touch her long blonde hair.
And I've been thinking,
it hurts me thinking that these nights
when we were drinking, no they never got us anywhere...
No....
This is because I can spell konfusion with a k,
and I like it,
It's to dying in another's arms and why I had to try it.
It's to jimmy eat world and those nights in my car,
when the first star you see may not be a star.
"I'm not your star,"
Isn't that what you said?
What you thought this song meant?
And if this is what it takes,
just to lie in my mistakes,
and live with what I did to you,
and all the hell I put you through...
I always catch the clock,
it's 11:11,
and now you want to talk...
It's not hard to dream
you'll always be my Konstantine...
Konstantine, they'll never hurt you like I do,
no they'll never hurt you like I do,
no, no, no no no no no no....
This is to a girl who got into my head
with all the pretty things she did.
Hey,
you know,
you keep me up in bed.
This is to a girl who got into my head
with all the fucked up things i did.
Hey,
maybe,
baby,
you could keep me up in bed.
My Konstantine,
spin around me like a dream we played out on this movie screen.
And I said,
did you know i missed you? [x7]
Oh God I miss you...
And then you bring me home,
and we'll go to sleep, but this time, not alone, no no...
And you'll kiss me in your living room.
I know,
you'll miss me in your living room;
cause these nights I think maybe that I'll miss you in my living room.
We don't have much room,
I said does anybody need that room?
Because we all need a little more room,
to live...
My Konstantine....