To Sir 1/27/07

Today, on my way to class, I saw the moon, white against a cloudless blue noon sky. I've always loved seeing the moon in the middle of the day, beautiful where it doesn't belong. I think you might be the only one who knows that about me. I remember seeing the moon about the front of my old university as I walked down the main drive. I seem to remember always smiling, thoughs of you never far away when I saw that magical sight. I think I felt like that was some amazing gift you gave me, just being able to be in a place like that. When I threw it away, I think I was sorriest that I disappointed you, squandering the opportunity you'd given me. On the other hand, I feel like I have some hope of succeeding at this school this time around because I feel like I need to and I feel like I"m in the same boat as everyone else, trying to create my own opportunities and just get ahead alittle. But it's mine, all mine, whether I succeed or fail, and fuck everyone else.

Thursday I bought the latest Snow Patrol album. Track #6 makes me cry. I guess I imagine it is how you feel about me. "You could be happy, I hope you are. You made me happier than I'd been by far... Do the things that you always wanted to. Without me there to hold you back, don't think, just do. More than anything I want to see you go, Take a glorious bite out of the whole world." Unfortunately, I can't seem to sum up how I feel about you so well.

I've never wanted to not want you in my life, but I do. You saved me when I thought I could not be redeemed, but I can't adhere to your orthodoxy. I never could. (I"m not sure you can either, though.) I always wanted to believe, but faith has always exacted too high a price. But my god abandoned me long before I abandoned him.

And yet I live with your ghost everyday. Though I'm not sure if it's the ghost of you or the ghost of my image of you. Either way, it still remains. A voice in my head that is more than just an extension of my conscience but also the color commentator for my day-to-day. The opposition to every weakly-supported argument I concoct. The arms that hold me when I'm out of control. The hand that calms me, stroking my hair until I feel I can rest.

I have a new lover, of a sort, now. Our peculiar relationship forces me to re-examine my beliefs and prejudices, my fears and desires. My experiences have refuted many of your carefully crafted hypothesises. When each experience with my lover ends, I feel free and unencumbered in a way I've never known before. But I have little desire to share my every truimph with this new lover as I still do with you. I don't need to know their mind as I still yearn to know yours. I do not ache in the pit of my stomach for their companionship, for a favorable smile from their lips.

I am sorry.

I'm Gonna Find Another You-John Mayer

To Sir, with Love

I'm Gonna Find Another you-John Mayer
It's really over,
you made your stand
You got me crying, as was your plan
But when my loneliness is through,
I'm gonna find another you

You take your sweaters
You take your time
You might have your reasons
but you will never have my rhymes
I'm gonna sing my way away from blue
I'm gonna find another you

When I was your lover
No one else would do
If I'm forced to find another,
I hope she looks like you
Yeah and she's nicer too

So go on baby
Make your little get away
My pride will keep me company
And you just gave yours all away
Now I'm gonna dress myself for two
Once for me and once for someone new
I'm gonna do somethings you wouldn't let me do
Oh I'm gonna find another you

60 in a 35

I love cars. They can be so many different things, depending on what you need and how you use them. Obviously, cars are for transportation, but where you are coming from, where you are going, and why can vary greatly. I've often used my vehicle as a get away car, fleeing the scene of wrecks I'm caused in my life. I've used cars to speed me to loved ones. I've used cars to get me to where I make a living and to the places that have taught me how to make a better one. I've used my car to transport my mind as well, the steady rhythme of the road and the steady messages of the music I play allowing my mind to make gigantic trips. After a particularly nasty incident with a salesperson, I used a car to brutalize the object of my anger. (At least in my mind as I ran over pedestrians. In Grand Theft Auto III.)

Tonight I used a car to get the thrill that I had been seeking elsewhere. Tonight I was somewhere that I didn't plan on being. I thought I would have a handy excuse with work and night classes to gain some distance, both for thinking and to heighten the experience I was expecting over the weekend, when there was no work to rush off to the next morning and plenty of time for play all night. The time constraints of the work week doesn't allow for such fun then. But, as the best laid plans of mice and men go astray, so do I. And my plans. While I went to the place I go to for fun, that kinda of fun was not to be had tonight, leaving me to drive home alone, with no encouragement that I would be fulfilled anytime soon, to find my own amusement. The streets here in the suburbs are pretty dead at 11pm on a Wednesday night, at least compared to the larger cities I have lived in, or even the suburb my Grandmother lives in. So I drove as hard and fast as I could down the straight road that leads back to my house. Not as fulfilling as what I wanted, but I guess it will have to do.

Ani Difranco - Shy
the heat is so great
it plays tricks with the eye
it turns the road to water
and then from water to sky
and there's a crack in the concrete floor
and it starts at the sink
there's a bathroom in a gas station
and i've locked myself in it to think

and back in the city
the sun bakes the trash on the curb
the men are pissing in doorways
and the rats run in herds
i've got a dream of your face
that scares me awake
i put too much on my table
and now i got too much a stake

and i might let you off easy
yeah i might lead you on
i might wait for you to look for me
and then i might be gone
where i come from and where i'm going
and i'm lost in between
i might go up to that phone booth
and leave a veiled invitation on you machine

and you'll stop me, won't you
if you've heard this one before
the one where i surprise you
by showing up at your front door
saying 'let's not ask what's next,
or how, or why'
i am leaving in the morning
so let's not be shy

the door opens, the room winces
the housekeeper comes in without a warning
and i squint at the muscular motel lady
say 'hey good morning'
and she jumps, her keys jingle
and she leaves as quick as she came in
and i roll over and taste the pillow with my grin

well, the sheets are twisted and damp
and the heat is so great
and i swear i can feel the mattress
sinking underneath your weight
oh sleep is like a fever
and I'm glad when it ends
and the road flows like a river
and pulls me around every bend

and you'll stop me, won't you...
if you've heard this one before
the one where i surprise you
by showing up at your front door
saying 'let's not ask what's next,
or how, or why
i am leaving in the morning
so let's not be shy

the heat is so great
it plays tricks with the eye
it turns road to water
and water to sky
and there's a crack in the concrete floor
and it starts at the sink
there's a bathroom in a gas station
and i've locked myself
in it to think

and you'll stop me, won't you...
if you've heard this one before
the one where i surprise you
by showing up at your front door
saying 'let's not ask what's next,
or how, or why'
i am leaving in the morning
so let's not be shy