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whispers and feelings

Posted by james on Feb. 19, 2002

<span style="color:gray;">Just another <a href="../music/playlist-coldplay-yellow.m3u">song...</a></span>

When I was young, I used to stay awake in bed every night. I simply couldn't fall asleep as fast as my sisters or my parents; there were too many things swimming in my head. I would dream about flying, about being a hero, about finding a perfect girl. And there used to be this feeling I would get in that moment when I'm day dreaming (night dreaming?) that was indescribable. I know, because I tried many times to find words to fit it. It was some kind of longing, it was sad and a little lonely, very silent and sacred. It was as if both kinds of dreams, the ones that are your hopes and the ones that you dream at night, were mixed together and found their way into the waking world to touch my mind.

I used to get this feeling when I thought about past situations that I missed. I would remember a field trip or some time I hung out with friends long ago and it would seep into me as if it were something so sweet as to be painful. Other times I would think about the future, knowing I'll have to leave my friends and knowing that much of what we had and shared would dissapear, buried under the sands of time, and again the longing would hit me.

Just now I heard a song that reminded me of a wonderful time. A time that didn't even really seem that important at first... just a road trip to some random place, to hang out with friends; no goal in mind and nothing really to do. But it became a memory so potent that to think about it and be reminded of what it was is to feel my heart start to call out for something unknown.

These feelings arise when there is some kind of loss. Whether it's a loss of something I used to have, or simply knowing that I will lose something, I feel the longing to have that moment back, or to hold onto it forever. Maybe it is my ephemeral heart trying to live in the same world as my immortal soul, and the two of them never quite being able to reconcile leaves me with a feeling that can only be whispered, and never described.


Posted by james on Feb. 12, 2002

A little bird told me.

Whenever I'm confronted with why I know something that I shouldn't, I use that line. How did you know? A little bird told me. I only have a line like that because I know things. I guess living on the sidelines lets you see more of the action. You've been there too... two of your friends are involved, but since they're trying to deal with each other they can't be completely transparent with each other. So you, the third party, learn the hidden cards that are intimately intwined in their conflict but can never be put on the table.

You ever feel like the things around you are transparent? It's a dangerous feeling; thinking that you know enough to see through people's actions right into their heart, where the motives lay. It's a power trip, plain and simple. You convince yourself that you're just that good, that you know people and have that ability, that skill to see right through their actions. In reality, you're simply perceptive and just know all the cards. There's nothing special, you're eyes can't see through lead and your ears can't peirce through pleasantries. But you know things, so when you see and when you listen the words become thinner, and the motives more clear.

I may not have an ability or skill to see through people. I'm actually pretty bad at putting the pieces together. Every movie I watch surprises me at the end, because I simply don't think past the piece in front of me; I don't jump to the conclusions that everyone around me does. But I do listen, and somehow my brain manages to hold onto those small pieces I hear (while the majority of everything else seems not to take hold at all). So I listen to the little bird, and I see through people's words. It's a dangerous place to be, and strangely a bit lonely.

Pulp news (bonus: song 2)

Posted by james on Jan. 16, 2002

<span style="color:gray;">Here, listen to <a href="playlist-Lucky_7-My_Fathers_Son.m3u">this</a> while you read. I can't own it, but it's got emotion.</span>

My father reads the news every day. He buys the newspaper from newspaper stands where you put a quarter in and pull out a paper, and you can take as many as you want. He only ever takes one, he reads it that day or night, and then the paper is thrown away. I used to wonder what the whole point is. Reading news everyday about a hundred different things that went on in the world, and none of it that directly affects our lives, the length of our commute home, or the price of the food we buy. What makes him read every day, and what's the point?

Now I read every day. I visit a few sites on the internet that publish information that interests me, and on a good day I spend about 2 or 3 hours just reading. I read more about them, even researching their history and reading other older articles that relate. They're about many things; science advances in space travel, licensing issues in the open source world, new ways they're trying to clone humans (and pretend that they're not), new programs that make our work faster and easier (but never really do). I used to check my email multiple times a day to see if anyone had written me. Now I check my news multiple times a day. Why? None of these things affect my life in any real and immediate way, but still I stayed glued to the monitor, intent on understanding the issues at large and trying to form an intelligent understanding of the big picture.

I still can't say why my father reads the news every day. But I know I've got the same bug. I know my knowledge will help me at some point; a lot of it relates directly to the field that I'll eventually work in. But the rest simply makes me a more knowledgable person. And that's something I enjoy... I like being able to think in semi-realistic fantasies, taking what's almost possible today and inventing new things could be possible because of them.

I guess in some way I'm still just playing with legos*.

<span style="font-size:-5px;color:gray">* I think only my mother would get the allusion... do you?</span>

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