i don't blame you.


i must've been a pain to be around, you can admit it. me with my stack of adbusters magazines. me with my netflix queue full of anti-corporate, anti-war documentaries. me with my borrowed naomi klein book that i never even cracked. my musty, worn-out clothes from the thrift store, my eagerness to return things to target, my animal rights' rants, my uninformed self-righteous talk. how did you ever put up with it? i'm so sorry for the trouble it has caused you. but oh, only if you could see me now. my biggest dilemma now is trying to find a really nice white hoodie so that i can look like i belong in a kid cudi video.

there was a moment i was walking down broadway in new york, and i felt it again. that strange, rare feeling that i was free. i've felt it a few times in my life now. once, after the weezer concert in san francisco, while walking back to the parking lot by myself. i was sunburnt to a crisp, and i had my oversized mxpx sweatshirt, my sunglasses, and i bet i looked like a mess, but i didn't care. i was free. the other was that ferry ride i've mentioned plenty of times. and then there, the most recent, in new york. i don't know how to describe it. it's just this realization that i really could do anything. i don't know how to put it any other way than that.

i've got this problem, see? this whole thing about how we've grown up with these concepts of sarcasm, self-parody, irony, etc. we are the scary movie 4 generation. most of the time, i don't know if i'm doing something because i really want to do it, or just because i've seen someone else do it, and i want to know what that's about. how do i explain it. there's a scene in greenberg where the girl is talking about how she and her friend went home with some guys and took off their shirts and let the guys videotape them, and she couldn't tell if she was doing it for her own sake, or for the sake of trying to be like everyone else.

that's what you wanted. you wanted nice dinners with friends where appetizers and wine glasses would be present. you wanted road trips and small vacations here and there. you wanted romance and to go out dancing. you wanted compliments from other pretty girls, and "where did you get that dress?" and expensive shoes. you wanted a man who could understand all of this, and give it to you. you wanted to be taken care of and defended, and who could blame you? i don't blame you. in the end, it didn't work because, just like me, you had all the love in the world to give, but you refused to accept any for yourself.

my grandma on her hospital bed, what was she thinking about? did she think about the mess she left behind? people who have children, do they realize that yes, there's love they put into the world, but there's also a mess that they leave behind? there is no way around it. in her last breaths, did she think about her grandchild, the one in montana, who hasn't spoken to any family members in years and is doing god-knows-what? is she watching over her son and daughter now, the ones who live in the same city but who no longer speak to one another?

as for me, well, i don't really know about nothin', nothin'.

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