NOTE: This is what I wrote after I saw Star Wars and chatted with Jamie (see previous entry). It is just a bunch of opionated ramblings about all those covert mysteries of life and whatnot.

I do agree with one of his complaints, which is that the dialogue is a bit infected with platitudes. But clichés are clichés because they are the absolute truth and the truth is repeated over the years because the human race has an insatiable desire for sincerity. So, when the characters said something horribly prosaic like “I’ve been thinking about you all the time you were away,” there weren’t many alternatives. It is a direct and true statement that, although simplified, reflects profundities. When it comes down to it, if we were all to die, we would most likely say the same thing to our beloved. Not because we have been infiltrated by standard bromides, but because we have the capability to harbor passion and convey that ardor through simple truth. Because when the time comes, fear and love relate us all on a certain level of mortality, where we are operating as inferiors to the world. These are the verities we function with and we have a natural instinct to profess the truth in a comprehendible way as to let the emotions capture the time and not the wit of the words. There is an underlining need for simplicity existing in all of us. This is the way of the heart, to feel complex, when in reality it is operating through the simplistic terms of emotion.

After the movie (and it was incredible), we went to Barnes and Noble carrying an inventory of history books and weary minds not yet ready to be tested on historic dates. Jamie and I bought some coffee after a long debate on what had the lowest sugar content (this was for my sake) and then we sat down at a quiet table which amused me very much, not because of the actual table, but because of the light above it. For some reason half of the light was pink and for some other reason that made me happy.

Inevitably, we started to talk about guys. Specifically, how stupid they are. Jamie and I have never been “guy magnets” and have always set higher standards for boyfriends, waiting by ourselves for some sort of poetic intelligence to manifest in the form of a gorgeous male. So she was chattering about her enthrallment with this guy, and I was thinking in the back of my mind about Brendan. And we both sort of said the same thing at the same time. Superiority. Equality. Not necessary someone who’s so insanely brilliant to the point of extreme annoyance, but someone who is our equal in the sense of (maturity would be nice), but really, intelligence. Someone who’s crazy enough to dress up like Harry Potter, but smart enough to partake in a conversation in which both parties are functioning on the same level of parity. Alas, we have learned that the quote (see Jamie’s journal www.whyender.blogspot.com) is true. Most always, smart men go for dumb women. This is, perchance, the greatest and most recondite mystery of them all. But while we were sitting there in the lovely glow of the half pink light, with our many pages of history ruffling on the table, I thought about how impossible this seems at times. I guess, really, just the concept that there is one person embodying all the characteristics I desire and find essential. If you think about it, it’s really not that big of a demand. It’s quite distressing that because of the immense moronic nature of everyone, it seems to be at times. But never compromise, you know? Mediocrity is the worst. Please excuse my romantic girlishness, but I know eventually I will find that person. I have many guesses on who it might be, but fate is an esoteric thing that few will ever understand.

It’s someone who will infuse me with the greatest appreciation and enthusiasm for life, and the overwhelming desire to devour the world through an enlightening exploration. This is who I am. I am the ravenous, the consumer of life who wants to be and do and love everything and everyone. I want to burn like yellow roman candles across that Kerouac sky of stars. Today is not enough, yesterday was not enough, and tomorrow will prove itself short of perfection, lacking the necessary time to placate my hungry heart. I am content to an extent. I enjoy the now, but I crave the future. I will always have an abysmal and slight dissatisfaction with my life. But this is a happy inducement to learn, a catalyst to love the life that is all encompassing.

If we let ourselves slip into a complete compromise with the world, then we will never compel our spirits to ascend the corporeal. We will become mundane definitions, surviving as an ancient text, refusing to revise ourselves because we’re complying with a societal view and being spoon-fed our opinions. I think I love myself because I am like this. I can’t claim a narcissic view of myself, and I don’t want one. But for all the grief I give myself, I can admire the rapacious person I am. Of course I sit in sloth when I should be equaling my fiery words, but I am working on that. I am trying to surpass my own inertia. And I’m happy about that for today. *But tomottor will not be an oblivion into dusty death. It will be a plunge into the souls of man, where I will grow and aspire to exceed seven ages, defying reason far beyond the eighth.

And I don’t care anymore. I don’t think I really ever did. I went through typical phases of trying. But a life of rejection (yes, a past life of woe for me) has instructed me down the path of individualism. (This is, sadly, the road less traveled. ) I am in the process of realizing something beautiful and applying the constant embodiments of purity and loveliness to my life. We see things through manifestations. Through illuminations and revelations and all fabulous things that end in “ions” and makes us brilliant. I truly believe this. I do not support a “direct voice theory” - that is that we are spoken to randomly and clearly and given precise intents. I think knowledge is gradual realization of truth generated through all aspects of life. Every small element is vital. There are rocks, there is grass, there is music and literature to expedite the enlightenment. But the vastness of nature and people is too profound to be understood through direct inclinations of assurance. It is something so delicate that is must be taken in smaller strides. Each footstep having time to fully press into the sand.

* Perhaps a really poor allusion to Shakespeare. ButI felt like it.