Sean (darksoul) wrote,
Sean
darksoul

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Sweet Marie, there's a hole where your heart should be...

I can't decide if I've been devouring American Gods or if it's been devouring me. It's a pity I've only got 30 or so pages left in it, I don't think I savored it's richness in a way that it deserved. A wonderful book though that I'd recommend for anyone with taste. Catcher In The Rye will probably be my next read once I've finished off those few measely pages tonight. I'm almost considering joining one of those lame book discussion groups. The only thing stopping me is my inability to trust the opinions of people I don't know very well. What can I say, I'm an elitist snob. :)

And I'd like to fall asleep to the beat of you breathing,
in a room near a truck stop,
on a highway somewhere.

You are a radio,
you are an open door.
I am a faulty string,
of blue Christmas lights.

You swim through frequencies,
you let that stranger in,
as I'm blinking off and on
and off again.

And we've got a lot of time,
or maybe we don't,
but I'd to think so,
so let me pretend


Last night I was saved from the peril of death/dismemberment because I dropped a quarter into my pocket by accident that I intended to use towards a purchase at the gas station. If I hadn't need to fish that quarter back out of my pocket, I'd have walked out the door 5 seconds earlier and been run down by a woman who wasn't looking where she was driving. As it was, I came out the door and was about 4 feet away from where she'd have hit me. These sorts of things used to rejuvenate me and instill in me a lust for life. Last night's lust for life came in the form of Beck's Odelay album instead, I simply shrugged off my near-death/dismemberment as one more time I've cheated death. When you've become desensitized to small blessings like not ending up in the hospital, paralyzed from the waist down, something is wrong. I need a religious experience. I'm not talking about "finding God" or "spiritual peace". Somewhere out there is an event or a place or a person whom fate has marked for me to endure/encounter/encumber. Somewhere out there is something that will impress upon me a sense of awe that humans only feel once in their lifetime, if at all. Whatever that thing is, my soul wants to reach out and embrace it.

Or maybe I just feel small and insignificant and want to experience something because the emptiness seems to grow with every passing day. It's not a sadness, it's not a lack of feeling, it's just an indescribable sense of emptiness deep within. A lack of purpose perhaps? A need to feel wanted, loved, needed? I'd give my right arm to go back and join the beat poets on their meanderings through the countryside. Unfortunately, most of them were spoiled rich kids who could afford to meander the nation because somewhere out there they had a bank account that they couldn't run dry. Besides, the America they wandered died out long ago, taking the sense of adventure and exploration that they thrived on with it. What we're left with is America The Spork, an all-purpose eating utensil that comes with every pre-packaged plastic meal from pre-packaged plastic dining establishments found in every city in our pre-packaged plastic consumer nation.

This is how I go out tonight. Dressed in blue, by the book tonight. This is how I go out tonight, but I don't need a book.
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