uniqueness and isolation of the individual experience in a hostile or indifferent universe

I'm basically just trying my best not to panic at this point. I've uncovered a reality about life (I mean, what else is new..) That's just it! I just stunned myself after writing the words out loud! The reality I discovered is that nothing IS new! I just woke up to the tune that someone else woke up to yesterday. And I just had the same thought that someone across the world had last week. And my stomach made the same noise that my great great great aunt's made last century! Nothing is different! What's the point anyways?

I apologize. Truth: I go through an existential crisis at least once a month. Today's trigger: The X-Files, season 6, episode: Field Trip. I tried to find something to capture the magic on youtube, but of course nothing could. Or tried. Although there was a Scully/Moulder tribute to Death Cab's "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," but if you don't watch the show, you probably wouldn't understand the genius there.


Anyways.

Scully struggles a bit with existentialism when she's high on 'shrooms (context, I realize, but really.) I identified strongly with it. I mean, what am I doing here? The same thing over and over again. And when the very very very annoying girls talk in my English class about eating peanut butter with everything. And the weird combinations they've heard or tried. Honey. Mac and Cheese. Root beer floats. Who the fuck cares? I am being critical, yes. But I feel I can because I have had the conversation before. And so have they. Like a million times. And yet they have it again. So maybe it isn't peanut butter. So maybe it isn't food. It's still all the fucking same.

Is this what depression is? I find nothing interesting. Nothing is new. I feel indifferent. Towards everything. Everyone. I have no desire to speak to anyone. To do anything. To study anything. To be anywhere. Because I've done everything. I don't want to pretend to be excited about a conversation I've had a million times before. BEcause they are all the same. The only thought I believe to be truly genuine to me is the this rambling of thoughts. Because now I can't possibly imagine how to continue to live. Because my entire life (now that I've came across this realization) will be fake. It has to be. Because I know in my heart that it's happened before. But if this thought is truly genuine, then it can't be genuine because someone must have had the thought before. And the human race still exists. So someone has not only realized this, but survived this. I can survive, right? I can forget that nothing in all the world matters.

I wish I could go back to yesterday when I thought about today and tomorrow like they hadn't already happened.

It was a simple time.

I don't know what's left to say about this life I'm willing to leave

Run. Sunset. Home to E. River Rd to Lake St bridge to W. River Rd to Franklin Ave bridge to home. I feel as though I've been running consistently enough to be in shape at this point.. but I still walk. I don't really mind. Yeah, I'd rather prefer that I didn't have to. And maybe I don't have to, but I do. And I probably still will for another month or so. Really like, whatever. Sorry, the point: I got to the Lake st Bridge and walked because I always do. I usually turn off my ipod while I walk, to maybe hear myself think better, but today the song "Somewhere Only We Know," came on. I always associate this song with Grey's Anatomy Season.. 2 or so when it is still a good show and the love-square between Meredith and Derek and their associated others is lovely and sad. The song is about having one last "hurrah" or something in a relationship perhaps or more likely a love, at least this is what Grey's interpretation is. My heart spoke to me about religion, about my relationship with God. And, I felt at peace. And, I felt that the peace might make me jump off the bridge. And, it didn't make me afraid. I don't know what it means. I obviously didn't take it to mean enough to jump off the bridge. I took it more to mean that I shouldn't be afraid of a deeper devotion to my faith. I do have it, though I find ways to dismiss it. Anyways, that's all =) Here's Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know": I walked across an empty land / I knew the pathway like the back of my hand / I felt the earth beneath my feet / Sat by the river and it made me complete / Oh simple thing where have you gone / I'm getting old and I need something to rely on / So tell me when you're gonna let me in / I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin ... And if you have a minute why don't we go / Talk about it somewhere only we know? / This could be the end of everything / So why don't we go / Somewhere only we know?

the pretty Rain from those sweet Eaves

Yesterday I stepped outside for my run and quickly regretted bringing along my iPod: it was going to rain. The air was thick. It smelled like wet and cold and flowers and spring and happy. I love the rain more than any weather in all my experiences. Especially cold rain. Yes, on a day-to-day I need some sun, some heat (notice I didn't say do I ever need snow. hint. hint.) But a cold rain, or better yet the point right before it is going to rain when the air is thick and it smells something like what I imagine heaven to smell like. Or better yet when it is a relentless thunderstorm... just makes me internally happy like not many things can do. It never did rain. And I figured it was my fault because I had been stressed about my ipod. My roommate tells me I have something her psychology professor describes (I forget the name.. something about complex, compulsatory, control.. something) about thinking you have control over things you don't actually have control over. Like the weather. Or A-Rod dropping dead tonight.. But I anyways feel guilty for (maybe) denying the population of Minneapolis of the beauty that is precipitation.

If you don't get in line we'll lock you away

Ten fingers counting we have each nine planets Around the sun repeat Eight ball the last if you triuphant be seven oceans - pummel The shores of the sea It's a typical situation in these typical times Too many choices, hey yeah It's a typical situation in these typical times Too many choices Everybodys happy everybodys free Keep the big door open, everyone 'll come around Why are you different, why are you that way If you don't get in line we'll lock you away -Typical Situation, Dave Matthews