youth is like diamonds in the sun // and diamonds are forever

one of the best weekends i have had in a very very long time.

thursday:

varsity for weaver at the loom and this world fair. was a very good night. went with heather dagger and lydia slayer, which is always a great time. saw mo and cherise. ran into mike minehart and had some good talks about the future of music. then ran into luke outside. met some of zack's friends. bought twf's new full length cd, which i am hopelessly in love with. those boys are talented. rocked out front row to twf (with the help of some wine). and left in very high spirits.


saturday:

fineline for white light riot. it seemed like everyone was there. 50records people (who i have missed terribly since living with them at sxsw), the alarmists, mo, cherise, steven, derek, ck, george, tyler, gabe, natasha, dave, producer jason, mike minehart, etc... the whole show was golden, but of course i was mainly looking forward to rocking out to white light riot. again, with the help of some wine we stood in front and danced and sang our little hearts out. what i love about wlr is their ability to put on a show where everyone feels the need to just groove it out. so many people dancing, and no one judging anyone. at shows like twf i feel like people are staring daggers into us if we dance, but at wlr every single person was expected to be dancing. ha. it was so enjoyable. later, lydia slayer brought me and jen together. she has now left to live in LA, and that night was one of her last nights in town. we had not spoken for months and months, but it was really really good to talk things out a little bit and let go of the weight of grudge. yes. we ended up bawling. go figure, huh? it was slightly amusing as well, because all of our band boys kept walking by shaking their heads, and later george asked heather "so all it took was someone to bring jen over and you guys say hi, and everyone is crying and okay?" yes george, it is. it was a very good thing. and i am very glad it happened. i also wish jen well in LA.

sunday:

fineline for the honorary title. the show i had been looking forward to all week. i had recently found out that mike schey (formally the guitarist for the format) was now playing in that band, which heather and i had already planned on seeing. it was absolutely amazing to be able to hug my schey again after so long, and be able to hang out. they killed the show and afterward we went to luce for a slice and then all hung out at brothers for dollar drinks. not crowded. and not bad. the night went on for hours. it was one of those strange strange nights, that were made perfect in the company with you. i am omitting many details, but it was a needed hang. those guys are all quality, and it was refreshing to meet new people. people who have hearts and wit and something of substance. magic, man. pure magic.

fated to pretend.

i have been blessed with a relatively large amount of people who know me inside and out. these people either have known me for years, have a gifted insight, or have simply cared enough to look deeper than surface appearances allow.

some of these people have been true and loyal friends from the beginning, some i have just met, some have gone their own way, and some have hurt and gutted me out. regardless to the current status of our relationships, i can still appreciate the fact that all of these people indeed know me.

the worst is knowing that some people, with whom i have spent so much time and effort on, do not know me. not in the least. some of these people were my closest companions, some were my lovers, and some were people that i cultivated great interest in.

they may know the sound of my laugh, where i grew up, the predictable manner in which i will answer the phone, the music i listen to, my favorite dessert, and the phrases i use to nauseum. but they have no concept of who i really am.

i think about these people in the morning, when the day is new but yet there is no hope for change or growth. i know that these people will never know me, because they wish not to or do not have the capacity to understand.

i wish i could be the person who could spell out their soul's thoughts with their tongue. i wish i could sit you down and tell you everything. but i am not that person, and i never can be. this does not prevent change or growth on its own, but rather it prevents it when coupled with certain people's inability to care.

i will always feel like there could have been more. i will always feel like something was missing. i will always remember the times i sat quiet on your couch, hoping that you would figure me out. but i will always know you better than you know yourself. and so i will never hope for more from you.

most importantly. i will keep those close, closest. and i will be grateful to those who found worth in my silence--enough to keep pressing.