February 2nd, 2000 at 9:50 PM

park words


For the last few weekdays I've been taking headphone walks around 6 pm, after Joshua leaves for class. These walks have given a nice balance to my life that wasn't quite there during my first few weeks here. A little solitary travel does it, though. Across the street from our apartment sits Glendale Community College, and behind the college is the largest parking lot I have ever seen, and beyond the parking lot is a gigantic park. At sunset this park is filled with families playing volleyball and kids at soccer practice. As you might expect, there's a picnic table area and a jungle gym playground. The area is well-lit. For the past few days, if been reading Coupland's Generation X and walkmaning out here with Bloodflowers by The Cure, Lonesome Crowded West by Modest Mouse, and Millions Now Living will Never Die, the brilliant sophomore effort from Tortoise. And a cup of coffee, of course. This is the context in which most of these thoughts have congealed into words:

i get nostalgic for times that aren't even in the past yet, nostalgia for the current moment... i find myself looking back fondly on things i am only beginning to do. it's an anticipation of fond memories to come, i think. frequently I have to remind myself to live the present moment without glancing at it from a different point of view. usually after a few seconds of steady meditative breathing i am able to re-actualize myself in the present. but it takes effort.

it's this constantly changing world of fashion and technology around me that's gotten me so used to thinking about where things are going and where they have been. my only addiction is the addiction to change. i really need it.

i've been trying to imagine life as it existed before the discipline of history... Hopi tribes telling stories 500 years ago, but never tales of a times that are dead and gone, stories that remain true, because time does not move as it does now. it must have been wonderful, to remain one unchanging being, with no concept of modern dissatisfaction. These days, we've all seen too much.

still, i do not think i am afraid of the future.

i was reading what jessica wrote in the entry dated february second, 2000, about relationships. there was a moment in high school when i realized that no matter how well you understand someone, you can never be in their head, seeing what they see. this limitation depressed me then, and it still disappoints me now. understanding other people's points of view will always remain a guessing game... but, well, can you ever give yourself over completely to someone you love? never, it seems. on some level you have to remain separate. 

i've been staring at the end of that last paragraph for a long time, trying to express something about love between two people creating something new out of both of them... but it didn't fit right. wording out this sort of thing never does it justice. i'm sick of typing and talking about emotions. I don't want to think them, i want to feel them

sometimes i forget how important sing creating sound music is to me, both in my motions and in my head start spinning stand dancing, and i cant stop in the mirror, the seeing of tone and painting of color rhythm stop step break beat im loving you her so hard and that white, single direction pulling me through crowds of peopersonal arm shaking drum brotherly hum. This is the way we communicate.

I wonder if I am content with who i am only because the movement of my life seems like a good story, one people might be interested to hear.

the paradox with my imagination is this: i can almost always create in my head a situation that is to me more interesting and intriguing than my current situation, and because of that ability i can never be completely satisfied with where i'm at. And at the same time, my imagination comforts me, because in that thoroughly complete fantasy world of my imagination, I am the politically-active revolutionary actor-writer-rock star I've always wanted to become. The difference between the real world and my imagined world is very small to me. so small that I don't mind if my dreams don't come true.

Today I was reading a Calvin and Hobbes book, and there was a Sunday cartoon with no words, just pictures. It showed Calvin and Hobbes getting up together, having fun getting dressed, eating cereal together while reading the funnies, waiting at the bus stop in the rain, and waving goodbye to each other as Calvin climbed on the bus. As he was herded into school with the other kids, Mom was running out of the house to grab the stuffed Hobbes before he got soaked. The final two frames showed Calvin staring up at the clock, waiting to get home to his tiger. An back at the house Hobbes sat with his elbows on a window sill, waiting for Calvin to return. I cried for a little while.

wherever I go, young children look at me. i am very tall and somewhat imposing, but little kids are never scared. They aren't simply in awe of me, either. Three year olds watch me with relaxed eyes, and the eyes understand me. Adults will give you a once over and then guess at what you might be like inside, but the kids who watch me make no assumptions, and they know who I am, from the inside out. i don't think i will ever connect with a grown-up as quickly and deeply as i connect with children.

Wouldn't life improve if we'd all stop being so goddamn private? Why am I unwilling to look at people as I pass them on the street? How will we end prejudice and create community if we're all afraid to look each other in the face? WTF??

I'm finished with cars, by the way. I'm ready to embrace the total abolition of cars and car culture.

nearly every activity I enjoy is creative in some lasting or long-term way... writing, music, painting and photography lives on once i create it... drama and comedy entertains people and improves me. So what is it about cooking that I enjoy so much? I make something yummy, and I eat it, and minutes later i can barely remember how it tasted. There must be a special joy that comes in creating things for the body that are wanted and needed.

am i right to consider the sphere of ideas and emotions superior to physical objects?

I constantly want to stay one step ahead of my own growth. I have a fear of getting stuck as something. I'm afraid that I wont keep moving.