| (originally posted here) honestly, i can't stop with this joni mitchell shit. but there is something i need to say, just not yet. maybe i'll write a story about it. later. I can keep my cool at poker But I'm a fool when love's at stake Because I can't conceal emotion What I'm feeling's always written on my face There's a gypsy down on Bleecker Street I went in to see her as a kind of joke And she lit a candle for my love luck And eighteen bucks went up in smoke Sharon, I left my man At a North Dakota junction And I came out to the "Big Apple" here To face the dream's malfunction Love's a repetitious danger You'd think I'd be accustomed to Well, I do accept the changes At least better than I used to do Dora says "Have children" Mama and Betsy say "Find yourself a charity Help the needy and the crippled or put some time into Ecology" Well there's a wide wide world of noble causes And lovely landscapes to discover But all I really want right now Is to find another lover When we were kids in Maidstone, Sharon I went to every wedding in that little town To see the tears and the kisses And the pretty lady in the white lace wedding gown And walking home on the railroad tracks Or swinging on the playground swing Love stimulated my illusions More than anything And the power of reason And the flowers of deep feeling Seem to serve me Only to deceive me Sharon you've got a husband And a family and a farm I've got the apple of temptation And a diamond snake around my arm But you still have your music And I've still got my eyes on the land and the sky You sing for your friends and your family I'll walk green pastures by and by... -- joni mitchell, 'song for sharon' maybe it's because of hillary's wedding, maybe it's something else. i feel this sense of finality, like i could have done something more. only i have no idea what 'more' is, dammit. it's overanalytical, really. i should just. fucking. stop. i wish i had classes to think about. something immediate, not burningman, not graduation; something right here and now. because there is this vaccum inside of me, not readily apparent to anyone that cares to look. there is something more out there somewhere. perhaps i am just frustrated that i can't seem to score a piece. or really, maybe i am upset that the 'something more' was brought to my attention in the first place. i mean, once you know it's there, you go after it. you get it. and it dissapears, right? to be clear: i am not depressed, not really. and this isn't a case of 'poor sara; things didn't work out her way.' well, slightly. but truly, it's just that my intuition and my emotions are telling me i should buy into a concept that my cynicism tells me to veto outright. and normally, it's a rather overwhelming consensus towards the opinion of experience/cynicism. if i buy in, if i place my bet on that ugly cliche of a table, i will have already lost. because the catalyst for this massive brain fart (my, how i love that phrase) doesn't want me. and then i have to sit there, ante-ing up again like some pathetic, naive, love-conquers-all fool... until someone comes along who's willing to match my bet. and then, i have no doubt in my mind, i will tell them to get lost. and afterwards, the whole cycle shall inevitably occur again. have i described that in the most unflattering light? because that's what love seems like to me. or the slightest potential for 'love', actually... a 2 dollar black-jack table ruminating at five in the morning with the most unsavory, desperate characters seated around you. and of course, take a look in your pocket: you have exactly 3 dollars and 95 cents. |