SENTANCE MONTAGE- DON'T BLINK
You've found a boy that thinks really deep thoughts. what's so amazing about really deep thoughts? let me lay some science on you, maybe give you a little free insight into my life, such as it is, was, and will be. the central dilemmas: how to be strong and feel anything at the same time. how to be attached without carrying along dead weight. how to deal with life, knowing that death is out There, the grave is lonely, and eternity is a very, very long time. struggling for meaning is a world where appearances are deceiving, insight is subjective, and being a romantic is nearly impossible when countless millions of people wear tapered pants, watch football every sunday, love their suburban upbringing, and don't trust those bastard college kids with their no good ideas.. oh, and how to be young without being played, and how to be a good person, in any sense of the word. if you know the answers to these, or any other questions, you're doing better than me, or maybe worse, because the truth hurts, especially Here, Now.
And yeah, i know what you think of me now, you never shut-up. i've got a handful of enemies, alluring and strange; after the things i've done, should I live to 83, they will never welcome me. there are the friends, never outdone, shining possibilities, pushing the envelope, daring to be and believe. last, like dead christians milling outside heaven's gates, there is the standing legion of past, lost, sometimes dead connections littered across the east coast in space and two decades in time. i can't forget a single one. and what's worse, i love and hate them all. there are particulars, of course, stars that burn brighter, but in my fall, they've all blended together... a sometimes heroic, sometimes pathetic, always meaningful blur of humanity. i think that's how we all like it sometimes: vastly important, and totally vague.
one unfriend once told me that a scheme is not a vision. and that when it all comes down to dust, i will kill you if i must, i'll help you if i can. when it all comes down to dust, i will help you if i must... i'll kill you if i can. he didn't say it in those words. and you must be wondering where you fit in...
and if you know me at all, or want to, or don't, join me or don't, come with me or don't on this children's crusade. you know where it ends, you've read the book. but if you didn't, find it in this: "beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror we can just barely endure, and we admire it so because it calmly distains to destroy us. Every angel is terrible." and "sing along with the common people, sing along and it might just get you through." and "maybe there's a god above / but all i ever learned from love / was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you."
Or (and this one is easy)"'Don't be reconciled. Turn off your television sets,' peterson said, 'cash in your life insurance, indulge in a mindless optimism. visit girls at dusk. play the guitar. how can you be alienated without first having been connected? Think back and remember how it was.' a man on the floor in front of peterson was waving a piece of cardboard on which something threatening was written, but peterson ignored him and concentrated on the little red light. the little red light jumped from camera to camera in an attempt to throw him off balance but peterson was too smart for it and followed wherever it went. 'my mother was a royal virgin,' peterson said, 'and my father a shower of gold. my childhood was pastoral and energetic and rich in experiences which developed my character. As a young man i was noble in reason, infinite in faculty, in form express and admirable, and in apprehension...' peterson went on and on and although he was, in a sense, lying, in a sense he was not."
Pick the one that suits you best and wrap it around your head like a scarf. i could write christmas cards, hallmark cards, form letters, or this, but in the end, it's all about you. the one i love, right? (i don't mean to suggest that i loved you the best, i can't keep track of each fallen robin.) still, whisper with me: 'i remember you well in the chelsea hotel. that's all, i don't even think of you that often.'
you'll probably say
that i don't give answers, just questions, and even those are empty.
you'd also probably say that what is lost can never be found. I say
only this: keep up the fight, do as much damage as you can (that way
you know it's working), and follow my lead: love everything and try not
to throw up when the world isn't as pretty as it should be. and, of
course, answer this: "what shall we do to-morrow? what shall we ever
do?"... in ten years we can all come together, and grieve at grievances
foregone. Until then, make me happy. It all Means something. go. We all
have to find our own way home.
That used to be it. After that paragraph school was out. I'm going to throw in a little bonus lesson now, February 1998. Do you want the words that matter most? memorize them: "i don't know." repeat forever and again. it's all going to my head. "where is my mind, where is my mind?" can you repent of yourself? is it awful hard to tell, what it's like, my little hell? judge not lest ye be... screw it. i'll just use my sense, gather what i've learned from coincidence. it's just that i never thought tomorrow would be so strange.
Yours,
Jake
JUGZ ICF
AKA: Milk, Hannibal, Mike Corleone, Renton
