||[Jun. 12th, 2006:02:23 am]
The Poor Man, Every Man's Religion
|||||A Case of You - Joni Mitchell||]|
I've always thought out whole conversations and situations that never really happen and no matter how much I tell myself they won't I still keep dreaming them.
Exactly two weeks and a day from now around 10 am I will be starting a day and a half journey by train to Illinois to see my cousin married.
I am not actually excited about seeing my cousin married at all. I met him once when I was 7 and then again last summer but he wasn't around (since he is living with his fiancee and her kids) so over the two weeks I spent there last summer I grew very close to my other cousin who is about 21 and not as close to the one who will be getting married and is closer to thirty.
I am most excited about this train trip, to Illinois and then back on the 17th of July.
Why? Because I dream up those movie circumstances where I'm reading Everything Is Illuminated in the lounge car and listening to Mirah when some handsome boy takes root in the seat beside me and we talk all day and then have dinner in the dining car at sunset and spend the night looking out the windows at the stars of the wide open and untouched midwestern skies.
Really I know that there will probably be no one my age because kids my age prefer the brevity of a plane to the views and experience of a train. And in reality the only male who will sit beside me will probably be some creep with lots of chest hair who speaks italian and stairs at my tits (as it was when I first rode a plane last summer).
I know these things are just delusions but they slip into my mind all the time.
Why is it that instead looking forward to spending the 4th in a town with no laws against fireworks and potentially seeing Wicked in Chicago what grabs me in the middle of the day when my trip comes to mind?
I think I would rather have a trip change my life than just go and enjoy the things then come home.
I just wish that my life was filled with a lot more living and no matter how hard I feel like I'm trying I'm still empty handed.
The thought has always occured to me that you only really understand touch when you're in love.
A palm grazing the small of your back at the end of a hug is never the same as it feels those moments.
It's been so long since I've really felt anything.