a weekend's worth of musings

i'm not trying to forget you

i just like to be alone

come and give me the space i need

and you may and you may

and you may and you may and you may

find that we're alright

I am sitting on the deck in my underwear and it is so nice. Today is the longest day of the year. The umbrella has gone missing from the table--I can't imagine Matt did something with it, so I have to assume it sailed away and hopefully there are no casualties. One of us must have forgotten to put it down? It is really windy here sometimes.

This weekend has been a sort of rollercoaster of ups and downs and weirdness, but even the downs were sort of good because I learned from them and I don't always mind being sad about things if they are real. Feels good to care that much about something at all, regardless of how it is going. Friday night I went to a party and I can't even begin to describe the vibes between so many people and between myself and several people. It makes me mad when people act out in jealousy when they have no place to. I'll be the last person to say that someone doesn't have the right to feel the way they feel, but if you are my friend and you become a big jerk when I try to tell you something about how I feel or something that happened to me, you are not a very good friend, right? I guess the best thing would be to say, "please don't talk to me about that," and I won't. But I'm not trying to hide things so I confide in people and I don't expect it to be thrown in my face.

This is sounding pretty immature.

Basically, I need to stop relying on boys as friends.

A lot of my friends are going away. Like far away. Like to Russia and India and Australia and Seattle and Fishtown. But I guess I am maybe going away in December. I'm not sad, though I will be. Change is inevitable. I just really like what we all have going on right now, living a few blocks away from each other and hanging out on my roof deck or at shows or where ever. At the same time, I've been noticing that everything is getting too consistent and every party is basically the same and I'm not as giddy and in awe as when this was all new to me. Which is also inevitable. I need supplementary fun and I need to make it myself and I am prepared to do that and even excited about it.

God I'm being so introspective right now.

Any way, Friday sort of fucked with me and made me not want to be around people on Saturday so I skipped out on Dan's grad party outside of the city, which I had been looking forward to all month. I stayed home and sorted through some clothes to get rid of. I have a bad habit of keeping everything just in case someday I will wear it again. I was in a really non-sentimental-about-materials mood though so I have a big pile in my room to pawn off to my friends or sell at the punk rock flea market. I am interested in having a closet swap soon. Philadelphia girls? (Ashley and Lindsey?)

And I did the dishes and I listened to Bros a million times and pretty much just relaxed. Partying is hard work. I say that to be silly but it really is sort of true. I didn't go to Dan's because I didn't want to have to get dressed or talk to people or sleep somewhere not in my bed or a bed at all or waste today. And I feel really good today. Nothing hurts and my mind is calm and thinking reasonably.

This is what's important and the result of a weekend of serious talks and a few tears and a lot of alone time: I have been spending my time being bummed out because I want something more. Or I thought I did. I had these ideas of what I should want and what I should have and what is healthy and what is ideal. But honestly, I can be happy right now with what I do have. Someone has been trying to tell me that for a long time, and I never believed it. But it's true that once you get what you want, you don't want it as much. And while it may be nice to have security and conventionality, it is often more fun to have to wonder. Like how I enjoyed Friday night in all its dramatic tension--I didn't know how it was going to end up. Every decision was my own and anything good that happened was a treat, not necessarily just the norm. If the norm was treats, they wouldn't be.

The line in The Great Gatsby that always made me the saddest is this:

His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.

It's pretty simple but it made me so sad. He finally got close to what he wanted and everything fell apart. His life's ambition met it's goal and the only thing that could happen ...well I won't say because John is reading it right now, but you know.

It feels good to want, you know? I've heard that getting what you want is a tragedy. This is pretty cynical I guess, and you can't stay in that state of limbo forever; things need to progress or regress eventually..but once you have something, after that it can really only regress. I think the exciting possibility of progression is what makes desire something to be appreciated.

I was singing a different tune when I woke up this morning. These are very new thoughts.

I've been thinking about A Bout de Souffle a lot lately, too. About the part when they talk about Faulkner; “Between grief and nothing, I will take grief,” which reminds me of The Experience Machine.

And about the ending, when Michel chooses nothing because the real choice is between all or nothing, and to choose grief would be a compromise.

I am not denouncing relationships or love or commitment. I love those things, I do. I love couples who are always together and really sweet about each other. But I do hate learning that there is jealousy and more fights than there should be. I know it's not always true. But getting closer and learning that makes me really sad.

A lot of things make me sad. But not in a bad way.

I need bigger flowerpots. The cucumbers aren't nearly as big as they should be and the Morning Glory is looking sort of sad.

The new Sunset Rubdown is the current soundtrack to my life. I recommend it!

i do love you and

i want to hold on to you for always