I am rarely alone with my thoughts. Nights that I used to spend listening to music, blogging, chatting with friends, and most importantly, looking myself in the metaphoric eye, are now spent catching up on fictional drama courtesy of DVR and Netflix. In addition to this more mindless existence, life has become more mundane in other ways. I think I've somehow come to the conclusion that there is little need to notice the details that used to make me feel giddy or tortured. Life is just life. Routine.
I used to be able to spout lists of tiny things that made me giggle. Music used to reach me more. I used to have so much faith and passion in humanity and relationships. Every touch or moment of connection was profound. I went through the day saving little bits of things that struck me as meaningful.
Now I am much more likely to curse silently at things that annoy me. I still have the desire for beauty, connection, and bits of joy, but it's as though I am insatiable. I wonder if anything would ever be enough. I become more aware of it when Miranda points out the things I didn't notice, or my focus on what she didn't do, rather than appreciation for what she did.
Tonight this self-examination comes from nostalgia. On my way home from work I listened to 'Warning Sign' by Coldplay on my iPod. The song always brings me back to Kimi and the heartbreaking summer following our short relationship (look in the archives at 2003). There is an element of our relationship that always leads me into this soul-searching place. I've never quite been able to figure out how to be myself with her, yet some of my most intense memories involve her (kissing in Newburyport just after Angie and I broke up--2004). She always makes me think about who I am and who I want to be. She dated a very naive, inexperienced Emi, with very different experiences and ideas about the world. There are many parts of that Emi that I don't want to get back, but there are also things I could stand to learn from the more wide-eyed me.
I told Miranda tonight that I sometimes wish I could go back to the sexually-charged beginning of our relationship. She wisely pointed out that the grass is always greener, and that back then all I wanted was to feel settled and comfortable together. Why does it seem that excitement and passion are incompatible with self-knowledge and comfortable familiarity? And furthermore, why is that, no matter where I am in my life, I am not satisfied? There are always past people, places and times to miss, and future people, places and things to be coveted.
and I don't know why red fades before blue, it just does
21:16 - Wednesday, Feb. 28, 2007
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message of Christmas Peace - Friday, Dec. 07, 2007
just a bunch of breast tissue - Wednesday, Dec. 05, 2007
a poetry reading - Friday, Nov. 30, 2007
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