Take a Deetour

"I write to find out what I think." - Joan Didion

Wednesday, July 20, 2005


Been thinking a lot about Leeds lately and people I knew. People I've lost contact with but think of often.

Thinking about people I know now who aren't having a very good time.

Sometimes I hate the "human experience", the one that assumes we all share in a common pain. Pardon me for being the Grinch, but I had the misfortune of catching 2 inane teenage angst songs back to back on the radio today. No wonder I look back to my own teenage years and shudder - what kind of the sentimental drivel do teenagers get off on?

Bad Charlotte's We Believe (check this - How do they sleep at night/ How can we make things right/ Just wanna make this right - whoo hoo, classic song-writing! almost as good as NKOTB's Tonight lyrics, "We met alot of people and girls...").

My ears bleed with Simple Pleurgh's Untitled - As I'm fading away/ I'm sick of this life/ I just wanna scream/ How could this happen to me (oh, cry me a @#$% river, you millionaire rock stars!).

So many alleged punk rockers screech about being in pain but they've barely scratched the surface. Where is the depth? Where is the mystery? We hear all these "painful" songs on the radio and suddenly we feel we're all one in our collective pain and therefore we can whine about it to other people?

But then why is it even I have to admit that sometimes that same "human experience" can bring some temporary comfort?

Life pulls us in opposite directions all the time. We love what we hate and hate what we love. The paradox we live in doesn't allow us to be whole. Always, we exist as fragments.


So again, I watch from the wings, incapable of offering up what you need to hear.

And then I remember what Leah from the Leeds days once told me - wise words from Bob Marley's Redemption Song:

"Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery/ None but ourselves can free our minds."

I cannot make things better for you. YOU have to choose to do things for yourself.


And Leah, hippie chick, strong woman, lipstick feminist, wherever you are, I remember.

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