Won't you tell me what you're thinking of?

Favorite Things Of The Moment:

1. 3 Iron--its a Korean film and the best thing I've seen in a long time.

2. Mixes from Jaymin and the Pineapple Cilantro candle I'm burning. (the whole box, really)

3. The "Cinntastic!!" Eric surprised me with at Dino's earlier.

4. GD's Shine A Light Concert DVD that shall soon be mine.

5. "We own a tarp."

6. And this video:

I’ve found myself searching for the right word and failing greatly several times recently. I’ve used a lot of words that seem inadequate.

So then I wonder why my vocabulary is so limited. Why I can never find the right word to say. I think even if I read the dictionary every day, memorized every line, it would feel the same. I think the problem is not with the words I use but I how I feel in the first place. I think I feel things differently than a lot of the people I know. Distorted somehow. I used to think I had trouble being being honest about whats in my heart, but maybe its just that it changes so quickly that by the time the last syllable falls off my tongue it already feels like a lie sometimes.

I am thinking this now, because I have been thinking about how I love people who can say what they mean--I mean, I love it when you hear something that reveals an underlying truth that we feel but do not automatically understand. Something with depth and meaning.

We all have this underlying overwhelming desire to make ourselves immortal-to create something that lasts longer than our physical beings, right? Some of us play with words and hope to say something that resonates through sound waves into eternity. Others do the same with music, hoping to strike the right chord. Then there are the painters and the filmmakers and the visual artists who try to burn some single image onto the soul of humanity, something we all see when we close our eyes, like headlights that passed us at night.

When I think of all the writers I’ve read and don’t remember, and all the paintings and photographs I’ve seen that blur together, the songs I’ve heard--the names of people and places--all the faces and things I’ve forgotten in my life, it makes me wonder why we bother at all. The futility of it is kind of crushing. Even if you were Oscar Wilde, or Toulouse Lautrec, or Bob Dylan--even if everyone on the whole damn planet knew your name--would always know your name forever--what does it matter? Why don’t we want to be forgotten? What are we clinging onto? What are we missing?

Just a thought.

Also:

This picture has nothing to do with anything, it just made me laugh when I saw it. Oh, the resonating truth...haha.

Take care.

--Nikky