i remember when i was [much] younger and [much] less cynical, a guy i liked announced that he had made a cd for me.

I must have looked at him with stars in my eyes (a CD!), cause he hastily added, "oh - i made them for lots of people" and in case i didn't get it, "i mean, it's not especially for you." and then in case he'd gone too far, "but you'll like it. i mean, i thought of you when i made it cause i knew you'd like it"

*
oh it's so sad the way this world is full of people just longing for attention from the object of their affections... which would be fine, except that more often than not, that very same object of affections is pining away because of their own case of unrequited love. is it ever really as simple as the movies? [except for gone with the wind, which wasn't simple at all...] I have to wonder, WHERE did those movies come from anyway?

i've been waiting since birth to find a love that looks and sounds like a movie
and then i called you... i need you to pretend that we are in love again/ and you've agreed to...
i want so badly to believe that there is truth, that love is real.
and i want life in every word, to the extent that it's absurd
postal service

*

Last week's Eye had a great column by Dan Savage in which he, well, savaged a whole series of people writing in with situations in which they were clearly delusional. You know the kind: "i have this friend, and his wife and i have a special connection that no one else can see. I mean, she's never actually said anything, but i can tell"

He called it Wishful Thinking Syndrome, this illusion that love will somehow triumph in the most hopeless situations. In love with someone who's in love with someone else. In love with someone with Emotional Baggage/A Partner/Absolutely No Interest in a Relationship/Absolutely No Interest in that Poor Sap.

I resolved that the next time I find myself there, I will write myself a letter and put down only Cold Hard Facts, and then I will write back [as Dan Savage] and mock myself for thinking that miracles happen. Is there anything like love, or the illusion of it, for making people act irrationally?

And remember when I used to be irrational? I'm so practical these days, it almost hurts. this is what i do, now that the cynic has replaced starry-eyed Narcissa.

Never mind: we'll always have the music:
i am thinking that it's a sign that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned;
i have to speculate that god himself did make us into corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces out of clay
-postal service

4:26 p.m. - 2005-04-05