You know how there are some people who are just... unique?
But they're not really unique because there are so many of them...
What's their word?
You know those people who eat really fantasitcally natural food and are all about whole grains and whole yoga and whole green beans from their own college garden? They call concerts "shows" and movies "films." They know all the little downtown shops and trendy independent online companies that sell the best journals and flat shoes and skinny jeans? They're outfits are like neverending urban outfitters catalogues and they're just smart and funny and hope to be intriguing because they are secretly awesome at taking "photographs" or drawing "sketches" or memorizing folk/indie/bluegrass tunes. (These are like easylistening, but vintage. So above Delilah.) Earth hues. Organic remedies.Get it?
I love watching those people.
I love talking to them on the chance that I understand what they're saying.
The truth is:
Sometimes I really want to be one of those people.
But I'm not.
Besides all the Wendy's I eat and country I sing and pajamas I incorporate into my daily attire...
I have all this emotion and loudness and contradiction...
and I'm just way too intense to be so organically delicate.
I think that's okay.
Gosh I feel lonely on this blog lately.
I leave for such long periods of time, and when I come back, I feel like I have failed this little page.
It's like I come back to my old home,
after being away on something gross like business leave...
something I never wanted to do in the first place.
It smells blank, void, dusty.
There are cobwebs on my favorite chair
and the sun doesn't quite shine through the tired glass of my discarded windows.
Ya'll, it's like even the fish has died.
And no one knocks on the door anymore.
I know this is all very dramatic,
but it's the truth.
Today I even looked up another blog site to see if I should start over.
Gasp! Oh the disloyalty! I know!
But that hypothetical new page would have no idea...
No idea that I let go of my home for so long.
That my expression often doesn't make it past preliminary thought,
And that this has been the case for a dang long dusty time.
It would know no feelings of neglect.
But then it also wouldn't know me.
So I'm not sure it's the answer.
Is anyone out there? Can we still believe?