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thought i was a donut, ya tried to glaze me

5.31.2007

it could be an illusion but i might as well try.

I do a lot of thinking when commuting into work, especially when my iPod's dead or I finished the book I was reading and I'm sitting on the train travelling to the ends of the borough that i like to call home.

I didn't work this week, and was looking forward to sleeping and relaxing and going to the beach and, most of all, not thinking--at least not the kind of thinking I do while commuting. That kind of thinking is created by idle time. That kind of thinking gets me nowhere or caught up in self-inflicted heartache or paranoid about things I have no business being paranoid about. So a week without sitting on a crowded train, thinking, seemed pretty sweet.

But the thinking didn't stop--it found its way back into my head as I went on a leisurely bike ride, as I drove to the mall, as I sat in the dentist's office getting my chipped tooth fixed. I guess it didnt' get the memo that I was going to find more time for myself and take a vacation and not get caught up in so much stupid stuff. Maybe it forgot to check it's email.



but here are some real-life things that i've been thinking about (and being bothered by) lately:

*So I went to a Met game tonight (we won), and was reminded why I hate (some? most?) Yankee fans.

As we walked from my car to the game, my sister and I encountered a lot of tailgating and rowdy fans. That's expected, since it's a baseball game and your'e suposed to have fun at them. But somewhere in the mix were three really annoying dudes shouting "LETS GO YANKEES!"...just to be dicks. Seriously, what's the point of that? I mean we're not playing the Yankees, we're playing the Giants. Why are you at Shea if you love the Yankees so much? Why do you go to a Mets game rocking your Stray-Rod jersey, and gettin drunk and yelling at people, when the Yankees are off playing in another state? I can understand some rival ribbing in a bar or at a Subway Series game. You know, the kind that starts and ends with "26 rings! yea baby!". The kind that always make them act like they're fresh off a World Series victory and not in last place & 6 years past their last ring ("but who'd we beat then, huh? yea, that's what I thought CLEMENSSSSS"). But come on. Shouldn't you be embarrased shouting "LET'S GO YANKEES" anywhere, let alone at Shea Stadium? Go home and watch YES Classics.

* I think if I ever get married I'm going to elope. I'm being serious. As the wise Kelly Ripa (who eloped with her husband) once said: "I want a marriage, not a wedding." I don't want invitation drama or color schemes or catering halls or anything involved with weddings, really, because i'm starting to hate them and I'm only 21.

The only thing I want from a wedding is cake, flowers, and fancy pictures. But I'm sure I can get those in Vegas.

and finally-

*If you were to ask me last week, "What do you think of Jenny Lewis?" I would have said, "She's great. I love Rilo Kiley and I"ve seen her live with them and solo with the Watson Twins and she was awesome."

But I've been listening to "melt your heart" and "rabbit fur coat" and "you are what you love" on repeat for the past three days so if you were to ask me right now, "What do you think of Jenny Lewis?" I'd probably break down and start crying and say "JENNY LEWIS SPEAKS TO ME" or something stupid like that. Sometimes you find songs when you need them the most (or vice versa). You listen to these songs through your headphones, songs you uploaded to iTunes months ago, and you just feel a lot better about whatever stupid things you were thinking about.



This is no great illusion
When I'm with you I'm looking for a ghost
Or invisible reasons
To fall out of love and run screaming from our home

Because we live in a house of mirrors
We see our fears and everything
Our songs, faces, and second hand clothes
But more and more we're suffering
Not nobody, not a thousand beers
Will keep us from feeling so all alone

But you are what you love
And not what loves you back
That's why I'm here on your doorstep
Pleading for you to take me back

The phone is a fine invention
It allows me to talk endlessly to you
About nothing disguising my intentions
Which I'm afraid, my friend, are wildly untrue

It's a sleight of hand, a white soul band
The heart attacks I'm convinced I have
Every morning upon waking
To you I'm a symbol or a monument
Your rite of passage to fulfillment
But I'm not yours for the taking

But you are what you love
And not what loves you back
So I guess that's why you keep calling me back

I'm fraudulent, a thief at best
A coward who paints a bullshit canvas
Things that will never happen to me
But at arms length, it's Tim who said
I'm good at it, I've mastered it
Avoiding, avoiding everything

But you are what you love, Tim
And not what loves you back
And I'm in love with illusions
So saw me in half
I'm in love with tricks
So pull another rabbit out your hat



see? don't you feel better already?

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I wonder if my writing has even improved?