words, words, words
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If I begin to detail myself here, will you understand?
P. I am me
Q. I don't always know exactly who that is
R. I am Quaker
S. I like words and playing with them
T. I like genmaicha tea
U. I like the word napkin more than most others
V. I spend time walking my neighborhood
W. I cook rice often
X. I sleep well most every night
Y. I eat large amounts of fruit and vegetables
Z. I munch, sleep, write, create, cook, bike, watch, walk, listen, hope, learn, drink, live, breathe, touch, know, question, taste, copy, read, stare, carry, talk, dance, finger, try.
raisin@gmail.com
albums:
Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out
songs:
Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork
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Thursday, August 21, 2003
People die every day. We know that, always have. You see it in the news, some people get to see it in their streets. Sometimes they're people you know, most of the time, strangers you don't know how to care about. So why do we care? often, we don't. we don't know how to process the information, can't start our emotions for everything that dies, it's too much a part of life. i remember when i didn't care at all, never thought about caring, even if it was the guy in my squadron, the guy who had borrowed my car and left a small dent in the front reflector. sure, i drove up to denver for the ceremony his family couldn't attend because they lived in Pakistan. i wanted to feel for him, but couldn't. I suppose then I wasn't even feeling for myself. 2001 changed my emotional awareness. I fell in love with an incredible man, a man that could meet every crazy idea with his own, spinning around outside the Getty museum because I grabbed him and pulled, him making me sing in his car because he didn't have a radio, me jumping in a shopping cart in San Diego and him pushing me down the street. I couldn't hold onto the love i had for him; it seemed to escape me, escape my understanding, and even though I reached for it, it was too high, and maybe I didn't want to jump quite that high. and then i woke up that morning and watched the twin towers falling down, falling down like a repetitive nursery rhyme that makes no sense in our heads, all those people running from it, towards us it seemed, as we watched through the camera. and having had love, to the point that i was jumping up and down in love, so excited for our futute together, i couldn't have my usual apathy at all the death around me in september. i couldn't help but think of the firemen rushing in the building to save who they could and having the ceilings collapse on top of them. how i wished i had been one of them, someone who wouldn't wake up september 12th and face the mad world, who wouldn't wake up september 11th, 2002 and face the angry angry americans. but i wasn't a fireman, and although i toyed with suicide, planned a jump off of my favorite bridge in time to hit a semi to make sure i died and didn't just lose a leg, although I looked up at the sky hoping an airplane would fall on me, too, nothing happened, and i had to deal with all the crazy emotion, the lost love, the death everywhere, and all those petty feelings, the loneliness of being in a new town, working the midnight shift, having my pet bird scream at me every time i came home.
so, with all that behind me, death weighs a bit more on me, whether it's the most recent american soldier to die in iraq, the journalist shot by american soldiers, or tomorrow's victim of any number of diseases. But still, what do i do with it? do i turn it off again, pretend I don't notice? do i start tearing up even at movies when you see people killing other people, enjoying the death around them? or do i just get angry, at everything around me, live the cynic's life of bitterness and rejection? i do it all, i suppose, walk away from news stories complaining about how hot it is outside, squirm in my seat during action movies watching the massive death counts, knowing that people will misunderstand my tears if i actually cry whilethe bad guy dies (is anyone that bad that we can't cry at his or her death?), and i often just get angry, think that hating our president will solve our problems, that he's all to blame, even though he's only a tiny reason for all that death out there, that it's none of our faults in a way, and yet all of our responsibility to fix it. even random strangers at bars argue with my respect for all people, tell me that war is necessary and good, that we have to stand up for ourselves with our deadly weapons. i can't even get the words out half the time, can't tell you face to face why it hurts so much to hear about death, because i don't know how to stand behind my emotions, don't know what words to use to justify them, wish i could just say, this is the way i feel. i prefer to feel as much compassion as i can, to try to love everyone i see, even though i do a miserable job at it, even though i find myself acting so aggressively while driving, as if i have the right to everything over the rest of the world until i look at myself and ask why? why can't you treat them with respect, why can't you respect your own feelings enough so that you can look everyone in the eye and tell them how you feel? i've believed in our society for too long, one that creates packs of trading cards to celebrate the death-hunt of iraqis we hate this month, one that spits on emotions, calls them weak and womanly, something no man should ever exhibit. and yet, i'm proud of my tears, proud that i actually do care, that i miss the people i love, that i miss the people that i thought loved me at one time but now can't stand who i have become, proud that I even try to fight the war machinery. it isn't much, and i can do more. i suppose that's the only answer, to work towards goals that will reduce people's suffering, reduce the anger against others that causes so much death. it doesn't seem enough, but it's more than i'm doing now, more than I've ever done.
3:43 PM
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