Sunday, March 30, 2008
"Before I write this, I sit and think, long and hard, until the cranium begins to feel the strain from incessant neurons firing, I think to myself, "what would move you?", what could I possibly write here that would make you understand, that would make you feel beyond the capacity of your own narrow little heart. What would move mountains? What would make the seas boil? What would make you, only you, feel what it is that I want you to feel? Have you never looked out of a moving car's window and watched the trees whiz past and think to yourself that the blurs of greens, greys and blues are beautiful? Have you never heard a song, you forgot who sang it or what its called, but you know the tune and you know the lyrics, it rolls off the tip of your tongue and suddenly you feel your body prickle with goosebumps because something grips you, something unexplainable, something magical, something wonderful, something only that unnamed, unknown song could ever make you feel in that one moment of familiarity and nostalgia. That is how you make me feel. Not always, not everyday, sometimes. Only sometimes when I think I know you, and when you think you know me too. When we connect, and you know the things I am going to say before I say it. It's just unexplainable, so profound that it confounds me the way you oscillate between not knowing me at all to knowing me completely. And yet that is the way you are to me too. I blame you for not understanding, but I don't understand you too. Nameless songs, familiar tune, half-remembered lyrics that you stumble through, I guess that is us. Part nostalgia, part embarrassment."
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That was
so beautiful. Sir, I would like to marry you, for thine eyes have not met such words in our present reality. For this I must testify, you must be an angel.
tried to hunch; 9:59 PM
