 |
Music •
Biography •
Press Kit •
Randomness •
Lyrics Gigs • Photos • Writing • Fun Stuff • Links • Contact |
Thursday, July 01, 2004 Snapshots of Melancholy One of the first scenes that greeted me this morning was a roommate in tears, mascara smudging as she wiped away the drops, voice cracking as she described how everything in her life seemed to be crashing all at once. We talked for a while, and she was laughing intermittently by the end--not that all is well, but at least having an ear is comforting. I don't want to wake up anymore--every time I get up in the morning something bad happens. The heat nears opressive levels and after a day in the sun--a signficant portion of it helping Tracy with her flat and teaching her how to change a tire--I feel exhausted without reason. I've barely had a moment to myself today, but I still feel lonely. Peculiar. Especially since I don't want company right now. Finding a piano seems like too much effort, but writing may prove productive. Perhaps I'll lose myself in a good book until I get out of being, as Emily put it, "in a funk." Last summer seems a world away. Most of the major players are gone, as are the conversations on melancholy as we watched the rain pour in heavy splashes, shielded by the overhang on what passed for a back porch in a decrepit student ghetto, the long drives through quiet farmland or unfortunately populated waterfronts that at night provoked musings on the nature of beauty, the excitement of Paris and touching architecture I'd only glimsped in textbooks for years, the laughter and mock fights in the room next to mine that turned into tickle torture for the one who would most squirm. It seems a dream. ^ Top | 7:03 PM | | | 
|
