it's a good night for writing. i'm all pensive and restless in head but not in body, listening to the saccharin sweet mix on repeat. it's mostly mountain goats with guest appearances by the smiths, feist, the sugarcubes, matty charles, and the magnetic fields.
john darnielle seems to have done a lot of stuff and experienced many interesting things, but for his first who knows how many albums he made up stories about people. compelling, intricate stories about fucked up people with broken hearts and chemical addictions. sometimes they don't make any sense to me. the rest of the time they make me want to cry with relief or jump up and shout and scream THAT'S BEAUTIFUL! DO YOU ALL SEE HOW BEAUTIFUL THAT IS? he sings like someone whose body has been taken over, rocking forward onto his toes and lifting his face to the microphone with his eyes closed.
the snake is nosing around. he looks thin. so do i. it makes me angry that that makes me feel good.
it makes me angry that going to weddings makes me lonely. i made a decision years ago that to be true to myself i had to find a way outside of the traditional monogamous western couple. no white dress, no one true love, nothing that is easily explained to the parental units. get me on a soap box and i can go on for hours about the morality of my position and the foolish optimism behind most marriages. whence comes this piercing longing for one perfect lover? perhaps it is vestigial. i ignore it and carry on, but it betrays me. my actions are inconsistent. am i growing up? am i a grownup? is this the time when i learn to do the things i'm supposed to, because i'm supposed to? perhaps i should suck it up, have my cake or eat it, and recognise that i have been acting like a selfish child for years.