lauryn hill was right about everything

often, at tipping points and cliffs of change, i find myself saying the phrase “such and such was right about everything” – generally referencing a song someone wrote or a statement a notable individual made.  Alphonse Carr said “The more things change, the more they stay the same”.  If the republicans had a clue, or ever read anything…French, they’d know that they should be slinging this around now more than ever.

So, Alphonse Carr was right about everything.

i named my dodge intrepid Alphonse Carr, no joke

More recently, i’ve throught to myself, Tom Waits, Hunter S. Thompson, and Lauryn Hill were right about everything.  I think i’m going to make this a running theme for a few entries.  I’ll start with Lauryn Hill, becasue she’s the most strikingly and immedeately relevant to me at the moment.  Sometimes, I hear a song, and all i think is “yes”.  This person has put into tones and words these awful things i’m feeling in such a succinct, sensical, and beautiful way that it brings us all together in a shared experience.  How on earth can this woman have gone through the same exact thing i did?  Her words and voice are all over it, i get it, and she gets me.  However, it’s impossible for two people to feel the exact same thing, of this i’m convinced.  So, when someone even gets close, I’m very impressed.

This is all a sort of passive-aggressive way for me to scream out to the world that i’m trying to get over this as best as i can.  The wounds are still fresh, but it’s more of an old cut that keeps reopening and refuses to scab and heal fully.  When you’re in love, the whole world hates you.  When you’re alone, the whole world’s in love.  That’s just the way it goes.

Mikey Montana came over yesterday.  He’s from Jersey, and I met him on the bus one day, turns out he lives right around the corner.  Nice kid, but his live-in girl of a year and a half just left him, so he’s in a…state.  Merc, Jessi, Montana and I went to see UP (which was great, but short) last night, and before we went to the theatre we had a few drinks in my room.  Montana kept saying all this crazy shit like:

“You know I gave her a call and i was like we should go get a slice of pizza and she was like ‘no’ and i’m cool with that, she needs her space”

“You know i called her up and i was like we should just cuddle and read Nietzsche and drink hot cocoa and she was like ‘no’ and i’m cool with that, she needs her space”

“You know i called her up and i was like we should bake some muffins and watch movies starring Meg Ryan and she was like ‘no’ and i’m cool with that, she needs her space”

Merc told this story about this guy who she broke up with who was all desperate and hounding and trying like hell to get her back.  There’s a way to do it, i’m convinced, but the second you even tow the line between endearingly nostalgic and creepy the thing’s over.  Cocoa, Nietzsche, and muffins cross that fucking line, bigtime.  We tried to tell Montana to let up, but he didn’t seem interested in our advice, fine.  If i were him, i’d probably keep my ears off too.

De Nile is a powerful river.

These cowards will shiver

I’ll take aim best i can – locked a stock of arrows in the quiver

i sifted through a mountain of scripture

didn’t find the answer went home and started pounding the liquor

used the barley, hops and grain chaser like a Charlie Kaufman brain laser

it all tastes the same flavor,

in order to save paper i wrote this on old drapes in sprayer

and i hate fakers

but i’m just as bad as Montana.  instead of going psycho on the telephone and pouring my heart out to complete strangers and saying things that make my eye twitch with discomfort, i throw it all on here for the entire universe to see.  i feel like it’s less weird, because it’s kind of one way, and most have probably stopped reading by now, which is fine.  i honestly have no idea why i do this, we’re an entire generation so starved for attention that we’ll spill our guts to anyone and everyone who is willing to listen or read, even a little bit.

however, no one comes close to this colostomy bag:

so whenever you think you’ve bared a bit too much of your soul to the entire internet, remember there’s this guy…and i guess this girl too:

poor girl.  i kind of feel awful for posting this, but she deserves it.  there’s a whole internet out there full of jerks like me, and you know what, it’s not like she didn’t upload this shit to youtube with the hope of getting a ton of “OMG uR SO TALENTED PLZ TRY OUT FOR AMURIKAN ITOLZ LOL” comments.

okay, i can’t write a coherent train of thought at all.

the bottom line is this.  being emotionally dependent on another person, or anyone else, whether it be your boy or girl, your family, your boss at work, or the entire fucking internet is an incredibly stupid way to live.  trust me, i’ve been doing it virtually my entire life.

don’t let anyone else validate your successes or convince you of your failures.  own each of them.  if your own personal happiness is couched in what someone else thinks of you, you spend your entire life not doing those things you want to do, but trying to impress other people.  trust me, they’re just about as impressed with your acoustic cover of that Saves the Day song as you would be if they were the ones playing the guitar out of tune and off rhythm.  rule every moment, seize every day.  find the thing you love to do, get really fucking good at it, then find a way to make money doing it.  If other people are impressed by you, whoop-de-doo.  If not, fuck em.  Rule every moment, Seize every day.

Don’t worry about reciprocity, Lauryn.  Maybe you weren’t right about everything, but you still make my spine tingle.