it's 5:09 am, on May 26, 2002 - the metropolitan museum of art in NY.
~
Before I start, shout-out to claire, and a huge, huge thank you. I was on the phone to Mel when I read your journal today, and it made me smile and I couldn't explain to Mel why, even though I could have because she would have gotten it. But anyway, yes. It was sunshine on a cloudy day.
Now.
There are these books that I read, when I'm down and out. Escapist books, shall we say. They rarely make me think of things that are grand, and they rarely have some big meaning behind them. A lot of them are Anne McCaffrey, who writes mostly tripe but enjoyable tripe.
And I can't sleep tonight. At all. Like, this is killing me. But, so I'm not sleeping, all in my bed, and I decide to read a comfort book. But not an Anne McCaffrey; a teen novel. One of those books that you give to kids.
This book has been one of my favorites ever since I stole it off my cousin. Called "from the mixed up files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler", it's about two little kids who run away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. And like, yes, it's a kids book, but it's like chocolate cookies, all nice and child-hood like. And so I read it, and I was reminded of why we go any place at all. Which is weird to get from a kids' book, except not. I guess it's true no matter how old you are; adults just say it differently.
"Is that why you're not telling me where you stayed?"
"That's part of the reason," she said. "The other part is -- I think the other part is -- that if I tell, then I know for sure that my adventure is over. And I don't want it to be over until I'm sure I've had enough."
"The adventure is over. Everything gets over, and nothing is ever enough. Except the part you carry with you. It's the same as going on a vacation. Some people spend all their time on a vacation taking pictures so that when they get home they can show their friends evidence that they had a good time. They don't puase to let the vacation enter inside of them and take that home."
You can understand my confusion when I got something profound from a book aimed at ten year olds. See, the end here, the end is all about secrets, and learning them. Claudia, the little girl, wanted to run away because she wanted her life to change. She wanted to go home *different*. And you can't do that unless something changes about you. Most people think that it's a bang, or a bright light, kind of change though -- but usually it's not.
See. I don't understand how some stupid children's book could have such meaning:
"I think you should learn, of course, and some days you must learn a great deal. But you should also have days when you allow what is already in you to swell up inside of you until it touches everything. And you can feel it inside you. If you never take time out to let that happen, then you just accumulate facts, and they begin to rattle around inside of you. You can, make noise with them, but never really feel anything with them. It's hollow."
Because we all sometimes forget to let our insides swell.
*
In certain conversations I have, I ask myself incessantly, how can I be in order to make this go more smoothly? what kind of impression could I be giving here that would make me sound like less of a moron? What should I be saying to be the thing that this person wants?
There was a line in one of Betty's stories, the newest, about how Justin just showed everyone what they wanted to see, because it was easier, and tended to, hide, the rest.
But we can't be anything but who we are. Which is what people, I think, are unhappy with, a lot of the time -- we can't be someone else, we can't change what we think and how we come across.
I can't. Maybe you can.
The only solution is, then, to be happy being. And yeah, I actually am, even when I'm so nerve-wracked and unhappy and juvenile. Because negative behaviors a bad person do not make and I can be happy with who I am, even when I'm not happy with what I'm doing. Which is contrary but true.
Five in the morning and Nicole is coming to pick me up at eleven and as yet, do not care! Don't need to care. I can function with this kind of sleep and I can get around this; also, I don't have to drive. If my prof would only email me, life would be good.
I found this picture, which I would link except the website is still down, etc with glee. Deleted a huge rant about website because it has nothing to do with changing and growing and learning something new. The picture was of Ryan Stiles and Colin Mockry kissing. The two of them are on Who's Line Is It Anyway, and if there was slash I would be in high heaven. There should be slash. There should be lots.
Still have a weird feeling about not needing validation in the form of feedback, like somehow I'm defective. Or that I'm defective in not recognising that I do, am acting arrogant in saying, "no, I don't need that, I would write anyway." Because obviously that's not true; I have produced a hell of a lot more nsync fic than I have original.
To finish off, I feel I should do something good, like goodworks. And this is as good a work as anything else:
Let's hope that geocities linking worked. Love to you all. I hope you love me.
~
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