never dark enough
03/16/2004 04:24 a.m.

never dark enough
to hide us from tomorrow
jump

what a song. what a band. another one of those, that i react to consistently the way i do to grace. not an album, per se, though i have high hopes for between the dim and the dark, which i will acquire on april 20th, believe you me. jump is my home, inasmuch as anything is now or ever was home to me.

i'm here not reading freud, though my roommate thinks i am. instead, i'm thinking. during lunch today i sat in the dining room muttering to myself "insular insanity" as my housemates walked by the glaring windows. i am not sure why. and i wrote this over and over, so that it covered an entire page:

sometimes when i speak, i can't
stand the sound of my voice
this great big destructive machine
it takes too much time
to say what it means

it is from another jump song - "the singer" - and i can't let it go, nor can i find any burning significance in it that didn't exist as long as i've known the song. i just can't let it go - and the nausea it inspires is fierce. the nausea of the knowledge of the fact that i'm trying to drive myself insane. i taste bile almost constantly these days. it burns, and numbs my tongue. but maybe i'm fooling myself. i do believe i'm trying to drive myself insane, consciously, and that it may work this time.

deb anonymously made a present to me of "rise up singing," a songbook that i've been going around the house asking for for weeks. it arrived in the mail. she came in my room as i was playing through some of it (it has 1200 songs) and i said, "look what came in the mail!" having no idea...but the expression on her face made me know: "is it your fault?" and i dove out of my bed to hug her. sometimes people overwhelm me. what a friend. if we can't live together next year, i don't know what i'll do. i suppose i'll get a single, but...it isn't that i don't want to live with anyone but her so much as that i want so terribly to live with her.

and i want to smile at someone on the street and have the person immediately fall in love with me and chase me down the street to talk to me, like in annie's uncle's love story. i don't want to be courted, or to decide. i want to know.

alas..."midnight/never dark enough/to hide us from tomorrow..." i would love to hide from tomorrow. or maybe what i want is to hide from today, be constantly living tomorrow; which, of course, is as impossible as living now.

so... "i wish that i would hear you say goodnight..." it's hard to be constantly this far from ryan, my friend of friends, my soul, me; even defined as it is, our relationship is more real than any other i've experienced. i wish i could say goodnight to him every night, like i used to... tell him i miss him.

ciao.i