Joyful Depression

Things are interesting. I was hopping mad yesterday. So mad, I was almost sick. I read this article online about how Halloween isn’t about the devil. The guy was complaining because people (Christian extremists) in Georgia were upset that Halloween was on a Sunday. They both need to get over it. But that’s not so much what bothered me. The guy was using a curse every other word. I can understand that people get upset and you start dropping curses cause you are so hopping mad. But this really isn’t that big of a deal. People (not in your town or even state) are complaining about a holiday being demomic in origin (which he claims is not). The fact that he thinks Halloween has nothing to do with the devil shows that he doesn’t know his history. Granted today’s traditions of Trick-or-Treat aren’t demonic. But most of our Halloween traditions, like Jack-o-lanterns, have demonic or pagan background. The fact that he has to curse every other word shows that he doesn’t know how to express himself intelligently. I had the hardest time figuring out what he was really talking about. I don’t know why, but people like that just make me really sick. What a prime specimen of homo sapiens.

This upcoming election is really making me sick, too. On one level, if I think back to pre-911 and now, my day-to-day life hasn’t really changed. I still have a job and bills and taxes and my car. And I still don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. But on the other hand, everything has changed since 911. I’ve lost friends, met new people, NYC has changed forever, flying is actually a bit scarier sometimes. Things have changed. And my view of the world has been slightly altered. But I still have a job and bills and taxes and my car. So on one level, I am really interested in the outcome of the election and I want to make a good decision, but on the other hand, I don’t expect much of my life to change – unless they instate the draft, but I really think that’s a scare tactic of the candidates. But look at our candidates. Someone called it “Dumb and Dumber” and “Grumpy Old Men,” and they aren’t far off. I’m already kinda scared of what Bush has already done and scared with four more years in office things will only get worse. But Kerry doesn’t offer me any comfort either. And Nader? Well, let’s get real people. He’s not gonna get elected.

And then the infamous What are you doing with your life? question looms ahead of me. Especially with Papa Joe asking about if we want the trailer and Nitta getting on Kaba’s nerves and me trying to get back into playing again. I really don’t know. Is it so bad what I have right now? To work at the firm and play my oboe when I want? Oboes are needed and so are English horns, so I’ll have places to go. But to get back into a group, to belong like I did in high school….. I don’t want to go back to high school, don’t get me wrong. High school was great, but I don’t want to go back. I just want that same idea back. Group of people, mostly friends, making music together and spreading music to others. Ahhh, its just undescribable. But I don’t know that I can…..

GOD! Everything is just so confusing. And I start thinking about the future and I get so depressed. It wasn’t suppose to be this way.

I’m going to go live in Shawn’s fantasy and be his drop-dead redhead neighbor. That sounds about the best thing in the world right now.

I couldn’t resist.

I’ve got to be honest
I think you know
We’re covered in lies and that’s OK
There’s somewhere beyond this I know
But I hope I can find the words to say

Never again no
No never again

‘Cause you’re a God
And I am not
And I just thought
That you would know
You’re a God
And I am not
And I just thought
I’d let you go

But I’ve been unable
To put you down
I’m still learning things I ought to know by now
It’s under the table so
I need something more to show somehow

Never again no
No never again

‘Cause you’re a God
And I am not
And I just thought
That you would know
You’re a God
And I am not
And I just thought
I’d let you go

I’ve got to be honest
I think you know
We’re covered in lies and that’s OK
There’s somewhere beyond this I know
But I hope I can find the words to say

Never again no
No never again

‘Cause you’re a God
And I am not
And I just thought
That you would know
You’re a God
And I am not
And I just thought
I’d let you go

You’re a God ~ Vertical Horizonwith your father; you’re looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.

So don’t say you’re on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won’t answer your catcalls, sometimes you’re looking at a nice girl in whore’s clothing – – we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we’re all thinking the same thing: “This isn’t me. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I’ll have slept alone and I’ll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me.” You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don’t want the nice girl.. so don’t say you’re looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we’re willing to extend – – but in return, we’re looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they’re running they’re chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets… the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congradulatory hug (and yes, if she’s a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won’t matter), hoping against hope that maybe you’ll realize that they’re the ones that you want at the end of that silly race. So maybe it won’t last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we’re waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what’s a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)