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mood |
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vented |
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music |
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Aimee Mann "Lost In Space" |
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Oh you guys. Here I am again, and here you are. Let's boogie.
I'm in the middle of a half-day-a-thon at good ole stupid LHS. The juniors are doing testing, so the rest of us have to pretend that we're accomplishing something as we have shortened class periods (and therefore, free periods). I'm not complaining though. I definitely don't mind just being spacey and chilling with my compadres in each class. As a matter of fact, I embrace this change. I don't look forward to the weekend, oddly enough. As a matter of fact, I really don't even look forward to weekends much anymore. During school, I at least feel like there's a constant, ready amount of people who can listen and be there and reciprocate, but on the weekends, I get all... couped up and tired of everything. We seriously have three and a half weeks of school left before Lemont kicks my ass out of town. Oh god. Senior year is such a huge leading-up-to-the-big-change time, like I swear, if you learn anything during senior year, it's to BRACE YOURSELVES FOR COLLEGE. I've been bracing myself for awhile now. Come on. Let's get this shit over with.
Been doing fun things recently though. Yesterday I went with drama to see Rent, and even though we were like eleven balconies above the stage, it was still pretty interesting. The sound was kind of muffled, but meh, things looked pretty. On top of that, during intermission, I chatted with my brother Mark and Rachel and Ms. Russell and Mr. Collins (who is like...the James Dean of substitute teachers...well...a more leprechaun version of James Dean. He's this shy, Gap-wearing, mystery-eyed man who doesn't talk much, but he's the definition of a "guy's guy"). Anyway, during intemrission, Ms. Russell was educating me about how she went to go and see a Britney Spears show and how there was a faux-masturbation scene onstage that copied Madonna's "Like a Virgin" performance from her Blonde Ambition tour. Mr. Collins then made some remark to me which I couldn't hear...but I guess everyone else could hear it...so I asked him to repeat himself not once, but twice, then I finally hear him say, "Double-clicking the mouse button". It still took me a few seconds to reguster what the hel lthat meant, then I realized it was a reference to female masturbaiton and I finally had my damn "A-ha" moment. The one time the elusive Collins talks to me, I fucking can't hear him AND he's talking about flicking the bean. Self high-five. He seemed almost embarrassed, but that's too bad, I talk about that shit all the time.
Musical's coming up, and I really haven't felt like a real camaradarie has formed amongst the actors in the musical. All I've heard are the occasional speeches from the musical authority about "taking it seriously" and "focusing," when really, I don't dig that, because it sure seems to me the only reason we're doing this musical is because we could score the Broadway costumes for it (at some horrendous price). The musical is three hours long, and Jesus Christ, this is the LHS crowd. "Frankenstein 1930" alone may have been too much plot for them. Aww shit.
Of course I've taken a lot of time to myself as well (as I have for a lot of this damn school year, actually). What's amazing is the stuff that sticks in your mind after months of deliberation and months of trying to figure out what the hell is going on. It's just astounding to me to think...lord, I'm still thinking about that person. I'm still wondering about that person. He blocked me recently, which I guess is just fine...but it just puts into perspective for me how unbelievable and how sad the circumstances are. As a matter of fact, it's the saddest thing I can think of. I really don't know why I delve on this ridiculousness, why I decide this means something to me even now. I guess what this situation does prove to me is how remarkable and how great it is to have those friends who are consistently and consummately there for me. You really couldn't tell me I don't have the greatest friends ever. You really, really couldn't. From what I've seen in high school, it's rare to have friends who will offer you logic and honesty without resorting to "Oh, honey, you were right all along, just forget about it, you're better than THAT." It's nice to have people who can not only offer friendship and support and funniness and car rides but also offer logic and will be truthful to you in an unabashed manner, realizing that the truth won't turn you against them, even if the truth hurts. More recently, I've been thinking about times like December when I was flat-out sad all the time and remembering how often my friends were there to console me in the most realistic way. They were themselves, and that was the best thing I could've asked for.
I wonder if I sound like I feel sorry for myself. I guess I'd understand where you were coming from, if that was the case. Hmmm, if I were to refute that, I'd probably tell you that...well, it's just hard not to be in a state of like...mourning when things changed so fast and so dramatically in my life that I was too dumbstruck to even wonder why or wonder what the hell happened. It used to not occur to me that I deserved better than to be betrayed. Now it does occur to me. And instead of that being a liberating idea, it's more of a sad idea because...I just know instinctively that that's not what the other person wanted. Somewhere in him. I just know it. Maybe soon it will be different. Maybe there'll be a pot of gold over this shit-ass rainbow... but I'm afraid of even putting stock in that idea. I hate the idea of waiting for someone to come and save me. Like my idea of redemption is in the form of luck. That so goes against everything I stand for that I could just throw up (I'd probably throw up anyway, but whatever). Well, that just makes me come to one conclusion: redemption and happiness are in my own hands, whether or not I know how the hell to grab them properly. I think a solution to that oh-so-famous loneliness lies within the idea that...if you love and are loved, you will always be home. Home is certainly something I've felt like I've been lacking for awhile now. I say that in the sense that it's hard to even feel like I'm MYSELF a lot of the time. After my big November 21st freakout, I decided to go global about the shit that had just rocked my world in the worst way possible, and when I did that, I just purged (haha) everything once and for all, and when I did that, I projected something I was afraid of...the notion of sexuality. Basically, for awhile after November 21st, I only felt like "SOMEONE WITH A DIFFERENT SEXUALITY" instead of feeling like "LOUIS". In case you didn't know, the concept of Louis is beyond labeling. Louis simply loves life, loves people, loves exploring, and loves relationships. That's what I am, and I love being that. But being in that volatile state where all I feel is overexposed about issues I'm insecure about puts the concept of "Louis" on hold, and all I am is a ghost of that idea. Which isn't to say that the concept of Louis hasn't come back. As a matter of fact, the only thing that keeps me from fully attaining my most powerful level of Louis-ness is my own inability to get over some stigma I feel I've projected about myself. I'm not even sure what I feel I've projected, other than I think I've given people the idea that I...just don't know how to handle certain feelings on my own. The fact is, I'm pretty sure the strongest I've ever felt about someone is when I'm "intimate," and God did I love that. I think a real difficulty comes in trying to explain the intimate side to the friends who know me as just, you know, casual, Madonna-tastic Louis. As a result of my shell-shock on November 21st, my instinct was to just destroy my intimate feelings completely and just hand their remains to anyone who would listen. What a shitty feeling that was. Nothing was lonelier than that. Nothing will EVER be as lonely as that.
But what I have to learn still is the idea of "detaching with love" from problems beyond my control without detaching from my own ability to love. As one prophet noted, "There's no greater power than the power of goodbye." It's utterly true. The ability to depart with something while being able to be on great terms with yourself about it is the greatest power. To be able to say, "I salute you in your excursions and I wish you the best and I wish you love" shows an awesome amount of maturity and wisdom. It shows your faith in the human race, that you believe you will one day find another relationship and continue to grow and love the world because of it. That's just brilliant. No, that's an understatement. That's beautiful.
I guess this is all something I will learn once I experience more or love more or...whatever, mature more, I'll get it someday. Still, I think we can all recognize our own beauty and the beauty in others even without knowledge of all universal truths. Before we do anything else, we should all be fully aware that we are capable, great, fantastic, beautiful beings with the power to do what we want and love ourslves as we do it. Hell, that's why we're on earth. We're here to love ourselves and the things around us. We are all we've got. And that is an awesome, awesome thing. Trust me on this one.
I just drifted into what I wrote for the Tom Tom senior issue. That just comes to show how much I've been thinking about "departing" and "leaving" lately. It may be on my mind for the next few months, too, who knows.
And with that, I mst go. See you all later...
Playas...
Louis.
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