a rumble under the surface, a brand new sky
I just listened to times like these by foo fighters five times in a row. No wait, six. A song that I’ve already listened to an uncountable number of times. I suppose it’s times like these that I like to listen to times like these.
and what are these times? I dunno. times like these are when I feel something missing maybe. times like these are when I think I need to get pregnant. times like these when a choice must be made. times like these when reality is thin and a shimmer is just behind the curtain. times like these when you know the plates are shifting and the gulf is widening.
I want to disappear, take Ryland and just disappear.
not that I’m depressed or sad. because I’m not, not really, not any more or less than normal. it’s… I guess it’s just times like these, you know? times like these.
times to be somewhere else, somewhere different, somewhere unknown, just me and my ry, with new stories, new eyes, new sky. it’s appealing. that’s all I’m saying. It’s appealing, his sleepy arms around my neck as we slink off into the night.
don’t we all suffer the ache of just being who we are, and of everything that it took to get us there? we get crushed under the weight of our very breaths and our lungs atrophy, we atrophy.
there is something to be said for laying it all out. to tell you everything, to want you to know everything, to open the wounds and let the blood cover you. it’s not just therapeutic. it’s not just healing. it’s a chance to get out from under that suffocating air and really fill your lungs with the sweet and sacred, something inviolable. it doesn’t happen enough, you know? So it’s okay to chase it down when it does, to chase it as far as necessary. because if I don’t, if you let me go, if you give up, if we walk away… well, you don’t have to stop breathing to be dead.
Don’t get pregnant again, no matter what you think the song is telling you.
no no JR, if dave grohl wants me to have another kid, I have to do it. it’s dave grohl, dude. DAVE GROHL.
I suppose it could be worse. The other day Krist Novocelic asked me if I wanted fires with my burger. I wasn’t particularly hungry, but I got the fries anyway. Curse you, ex-Nirvana bandmembers! Curse you and your powers of persuasion!
I cant believe I wrote “fires” instead of “fries” and ruined my own joke. Fucking iphone keyboard.
Sometimes I want to be pregnant again too. I sometimes tell people that I would love to be pregnant again if only I didn’t actually have to take home a baby at the end of the whole thing. I think pregnancy is one of those times when everything makes sense in your life….you only have to focus on this one thing and everything else falls away. I suppose that’s why when life is complicated or boring or just not turning out the way you want it to, it’s tempting to go back to that time.
But then there’s that blasted baby at the end! It ruins everything!
I like the idea of ordering fires with burgers. but I agree, let’s curse ex-nirvana members. they are causing us all kinds of grief. and I think it’s funny you have Novoselic working in the food service industry. nice.
so you know marianne, I used to feel exactly like that…wanting to be pregnant, because being pregnant is awesome and I loved it so much, but I didn’t want that baby at the end. stupid babies, ruining everything. I even considered surrogacy.
But lately, the whole idea of the baby after the pregnancy ends isn’t so horrible sounding to me anymore. it’s kind of nice sounding actually, which is what makes me think I want to get pregnant again. I really want that lousy girl. I’ll change my mind surely, because kids are a giant pain in the ass. but right now I wanna have a baby.
I’d like to have just ONE baby!
Girls are much worse than boys.
Okay, Tiff, I can oblige you. My magically potent sperm & I live in West L.A. Fly out here & I will paint your insides white with babyjuice.
Well, you would have to have REALLY magical sperm to make that whole Tiff baby thing happen. I mean, REALLY magical.
Well, it IS pretty magical, but not in the babymaking sense. More in the traditional sense. Like, I used to masturbate in my back yard when I was a 14 year old, and now there’s a massive beanstalk growing on that spot.
Oh man! I nearly spit water out of my nose! Note to self: no drinking while reading Jonathan’s comments.