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Jeremy's Ramblings, Babblings, and Other Pretentious Bullshit.
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
 
Right now I'm listening to the new album from The Streets, a 23 year-old English hip-hop singer who raps about the monotony and hopelessness of life in Birmingham. It's called "A Grand Don't Come For Free", and it centers around a thousand dollars of his that goes missing and he spends the album trying to figure out who of his mates took it. Great stuff. I also recommend his first album "Original Pirate Material".

So this morning as I was leaving for work I found a letter to someone lying in front of my garage. Since I live my life through other people, I read it. It was a love letter, and it was filled with some of the most beautiful amateur prose I had ever read. This guy was talking about how this girl was the only good thing in his life, and how he loved her with everything he had, and although he was away, he knew that soon they would be in each others arms, where they belong. I'm not doing the actual letter justice, but it was obviously written by someone who is filled with love and devotion for this woman.

Two things struck me about the letter: One, that is was thrown away (perhaps the feelings aren't mutual). Two, that I have never said something like that to anyone, nor has anyone ever said it to me. It makes me wonder what I have been doing with my life. I can tell you what will most likely win the Tony's this year, and what of the recent albums are worth buying, and which summer films will be the hottest. But I couldn't tell you what the eyes of someone in love with you looks like, or about great morning after conversations that I've had. I've been deeply in love only once, and that wasn't even returned, which ended up making me more closed off and distrusting.

I often have doubts about the life that I'm leading, and my friends always argue by saying, "You've done so many things." But that's the problem. I've done things. I haven't had feelings, just experiences. It's like the musical "Sunday in the Park With George" (a weird analogy, but I've been on a Sondheim kick lately) when the character of George says, "I care about things," and his lover replies, "Things, not people." I saw a movie last night called "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...and Spring" about the life of a Buddhist monk in Korea from childhood to old age. It was a remarkable movie that grabbed some real emotions from me, although it was a mostly plotless film. I was trying to figure out how such a quiet wandering film could take so much out of me. I realized it was because the emotions were handled in real ways, as opposed to the usual stupid cinematic ways, and that it was too hard for me to handle. It makes me wonder what I need to change in my life.

Oh, and in other news, I've decided to completely eliminate sodas from my diets. That's not going to be the aforementioned big change, but it's probably a start.

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