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So ah. My computer cannot read any of my CDs. I justify my downloading all these CDs from blogs and such with the simple fact that YES I BOUGHT THIS ONCE but my computer is just fucked up. Rabbit Fur Coat and all my Bright Eyes stuff are the most painful to scrounge up parce que vous ne pouvez trouver tous les chansons parce que personne aime tous les chansons. The reason I have to do all this shit? Dad got me a large iPod for graduation. And you know I’m a freak–I have LARGE amounts of music and I go back and forth from one song to the next. Know how many times I’ve listened to “The Stakes Were Raised” by Slow Runner today? I dunno! I love it so fucking much.
Actually, fuck, yes, let’s talk about music. Let’s talk about my Current Obsession #1. “The Stakes Were Raised” by Slow Runner. It’s just everything unfulfilled about my life and how little I take any sort of risk for fear of I don’t know! Being disliked? What I really needed, really needed badly was for someone to give me a slap in the face and say, “PAIGE. IF YOU MAKE AN EFFORT, PEOPLE WILL NOT DISLIKE YOU FOR TRYING.” And I did get that figurative slap in the face when Ali and I were walking to Carol’s one evening. It’s one thing to read on websites and in books that my worst-case scenario plotting is weird and that some people do want me to make an effort regarding my friendships, but you know…you don’t really get the message until someone confirms it and kind of shoves you out into the real world.
I just yelled at you in type a lot. All the currently italicized words used to be in caps. Feel grateful. I am just passionate right now.
So this song makes me consider all the potential I have for the rest of the summer. Right now, I have all these people helping me out, pushing me into different situations, but maybe someday I will be the one who pushes other people. I hope so.
Also, I think I left my phone at Charles’ house. Fuck.
The above photograph was taken by Ali and it is perfect.
I now yearn for Europe. Carol, Ali, Brent, and Paige are all back, and I feel as though they’ve experienced some amazing enlightenment but I am the most American now. I guess I’m not, but I’m greedy. Some of the people on that trip didn’t even appreciate it. I would have died if I’d been given the opportunity to go to fuckin’ Dresden or Berlin, let alone Paris. Instant gratifying orgasm. Plus, I just feel as though I need to test out my French and work on my accent because I am so embarrassed at how undeveloped and American I sound. The grammar doesn’t matter as much as the accent does, not for me.
Thus, I’ve taken action to educate myself in the French ways. We start with French podcasts, French slang, new French vocabulary, and French music. And then I guess I don’t know where to go from there. Maybe accent? Writing this in French? I dunno.
Oh, but Current Obsession #2. “Girl Sailor” by the Shins. Oh. I swear, je suis ce chanson. It just speaks to me. And then listen to the guitar solo. C’est mon âme. It makes me want to melt.
I am in a very peculiar mood right now, on the verge of something, maybe. I want to go out and do something weird or amazing because almost everything I’ve done this week was not enough. Just sit up at the park and listen to these songs and some smooth stylings of Jenny Lewis and cry. I want to cut my hair slightly weird just because I probably can. I want to sit at Slippery Rock and break down and I want someone to come and help me out, but I am not sad right now. I just have too much energy and too much to think about. Did I let you slip away? I don’t even know where my phone is right now. And I don’t really care, either. Why am I letting myself get away with so much Avril Lavigne and Switchfoot and radio pop lately when it makes me feel so weird? What if I revert back to the way I was before, because that is terrifying? I have a bunch to tell you all tomorrow, and another song for you, but I don’t think the song is good for right now, tonight, currently.
I’ll just ask you: How come I am so satisfied with my corruption? And it’s not even me–I am not the most corrupted girl ever, but that doesn’t always prevent me from feeling like a tooootal slut whenever someone throws attention my way because I fall into secret floods of cold, dampened, fantasized love very easily. I use the excuse that I’ll never be sexy, so I’m allowed to do this, be painfully flirtatious on occasion. Just, why does it make me feel so good sometimes to corrupt other people even a little bit? Because sometimes, it doesn’t end up being all that emotionally satisfying. You know. You don’t get a bond out of corrupting someone, necessarily, or some level of enlightenment that you’d never experienced before. You’re just the same. Drugs, alcohol, sex, morals, whatever. I don’t know the person I’ve corrupted as well as I would have liked, despite how much I care about them. Take this however you want, but know that I will never again be the Catholic Avenger or the reliable moral authority. I’ll just offer advice if you ask.
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