Oh, I'll settle down with some old story
About a boy who's just like me
Thought there was love in everything and everyone
You're so naive!
After a while they always get it, they always reach a sorry end
Still it was worth it as I turned the pages
solemnly, and then
With a winning smile, the boy
With naivety succeeds
At the final moment, I cried
I always cry at endings"
GET ME AWAY FROM HERE I'M DYING. BELLE AND SEBASTIAN

I'm in a strange mood at the present. I woke up and found no one was inside the house, and both cars were gone. And no note as to where my absent parents might be. But my mood has this sluggish viscosity and my brain feels a bit heavy. And my hands are too slow to grasp the infinitesimal darting stream of time that's rushing away, mocking my slothfulness. In other words
I'm... wasting ... time

The past few days have been a headlong rush of activity that i will sum up as fireworks and staying up until 330 while having extremely philosophical conversations and sending wonderfully humorous texts and bike races and sitting on rooftops and dancing in backseats of cars and nature and leeches and twelve solid hours in a row with JO37 (during which I realized i really like sitting on swingsets and his camera) and being with people who complete my life in the way that we fit together seamlessly, balancing the others extremes out and softening eachother edges, all transcended by the automatic love that comes with being family, supplemented by love that comes with true respect for others, and eating much too much (what is with our culture's obsession in overindulgence?) and figuring out i actually am a lot like my mom and long car ride with my dad and realizing bullying and violence make me shaky inside but its nice when someone has my back.

that hardly does it justice. the quote up there reminded me of two things i will only briefly mention because my sour mood will probably ruin both ideas.

the first part reminded me of how i had recently come to accept my tried-and -true hypothesis that there actually was love in everything and everyone. but i trust belle and sebastians stance on life more than my own- so im thinking that im way too utterly sheltered and priveleged to realize my hypothesis is false. it also made me question if naive was a bad thing to be, and if its a valid way to be happy. but i think its like the way a blind person can be happy because to them, being blind is merely a state of being that has always been. but to someone who used to have sight and is now blind, they might eternally dwell on the newly gaping hole in their (until recently) rich and complete life, and will consequently always long for eyesight back. being complete is therefore a figment of perspective, i think. as well as being happy

the second part reminded me at how angry i am at the book i just finished, because apparently it doesnt regard me highly enough to leave me with a realistic and true ending. i am content with the fact that life is imperfect and unfair (yet ultimately, beautiful). this means that i am getting a little bored of reading story after story that is tied up with a neat, predictable, perfect ending. its corniness made me cringe. i used to read those petty teen-novels with perfect looking people, trivial dramas, and in the end the good girl always wins. i cant stand them anymore because they male out people, and high school in general, to be so black and white; as though there really are good or bad people, and not a thousand shades of gray behind motives, perspecitives, loyalties, and misconceptions. so i expected that this book, which had been displaying life to me in its faulted, yet true way, would end with a sense of pain, but also a lesson. i read this book not for hope, but for truth. if there is not a perfect world, how may we go on living as righteously as we can in an existance so flawed and bound to hurt others? instead of an answer, i was confronted with the cliche wall of - oh no worries! there are perfect endings!