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i wish i had i wish i had the secret of good and the secret of bad
I would rather have a few close great friends than a million friends who aren't really friends at all. Lately I have been getting closer with some people, some new, and some who have always been there, and that feeling is so good and solid. I don't careif I slip through the cracks of the city streets, because I know I exist in the heart of somewhere else. Someone else. A few other elses. Just a handful. Somehow it's enough to feed a country. Sometimes, I'm realizing, the best kind of friendships don't start out obsessively. Sometimes they are just lukewarm tap water. You put them in a pot and over time they come to a slow boil. Then they bubble up and it doesn't always have to foam. They don't always have to know everything, or say everything funny, or look the way you thought they were supposed to. It's like your whole life, when you didn't think vanilla cake was that great. But then suddenly you start to like it and you think to yourself, there are so many other different kinds of cake in this world. Now I get to try them all. And now i get to like them. Sometimes when we get older we develop allergies, and that happens to friends too. Like people you thought you might really know, you kinda don't anymore. And people who you thought were so cool suddenly are not. What I thought and think is cool is changing. I like it. I like it better now. I saw xxxx and I thought it would be weird but it wasn't. It was better than weird, it was good. And who I thought knew everything doesn't. And who I thought was honest isn't. And also, who I thought was good, is really kinda great. As I get older and take more of this life in, the details get richer and more vibrant. I understand the beauty of this and how I am able to record it all when i write things down. The smooth way chocolate pudding feels in my mouth. How they ocean tastes salty and bad. The idea of the first kiss and its weirdness, with fake stars lit up above my head. Speeches I'll never get to make, fights I'll never have to get into, who will make a good dad and who will not. I hope as long as I live, I can share these things. So then maybe you can see them too. And if you don't want to, you don't have to look. There are towns and people and books and kids and grasses and bugs and orange colored seats at diners. None of it is stupid really. It's all there, part of something. Something big. I can write anything I want. Everything. It is at once, ordinary and mythical.
2:19 a.m. - 2006-03-06
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history - mystery
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