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shower mohawk
Jan 03, 2002
10:29 pm

'We all want to be your next lover.' - James

I really can't help it: I just love my indierockboys. I could care less about tall dark & handsome, just give me someone with an appreciation for The Weakerthans and The Pop Shove-Its, someone who can sing along to Beulah and The Recoilers with the same force...

Still, there is something about me that I have never quite been able to figure out: what is that one small [or large] piece of me that draws everyone in? I can't locate it. I can't decipher it. I can't extract it from my being to avoid the messiness of relationships and love and lust. What makes them pour forth? Is it anticipation of something to be revealed? Is it the hope that I will choose them over the others? Is it simply the complete unattainability?

I wish this was an egotistical wondering, but it's much more self-curiosity than anything else. That constant why, that unreachable answer. No one ever seems willing to even attempt an explanation. Is it because it's equally mysterious to them? [Is it ever possible to decide exactly, precisely why we love someone? The curve of their hip, the crook of their tongue.] Is it different for each one? If all of my lovers were to meet [minus one, unable to attend from the grave], what would the talk be of? Is what drives them mad the very same thing that drives my enemies even more mad? If so, what is that one thing?

'Deep down and dirty. Slavin' after ya...' - Stereo MC's

the bottom line is love