the world keeps turning, bob dylan
200+ dead. R.I.P.
"Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind."
____________________________________________________________
I've been reading the paper cover to cover lately, and following the news very closely. My thoughts are constantly with the people of Lebanon and Israel and their families, and I find myself wishing there was more I could do then pay homage in thought. It seems that the world should stop to deal with this utter mess, and that nothing else should be the topic of discussion until people stop dying senslessly, but the world doesn't stop for anything, and neither has my life (despite how unfair that fact seems to me).
In my microcosm of existence, some things never change. The bitch at work is still a bitch, and frankly, I don't feel like writing about it. The personal lives of some of my friends are currently akin to soap opera scripts, but it'd be a complete invasion of privacy to get into most of it. Which leaves me talking about what I do at home (read the paper) and when I go out - and that's where *Beautiful Boy* comes in.
I spent two full days BB free, and then I caved and called him because I kind of missed him.
I was hoping he'd say something that'd tick me off or throw me off or blow me off, but he did no such thing.
We talked for hours, again. About everything; About Lebanon, and family, friends, and work, soccer, and the PM, grandparents, moms and how we do them, and the next two weeks.
His friend came online mid-conversation, and he was distracted for a few seconds as he fired off a couple messages. Then he invited me to join him and a few friends up at his friend's cottage this weekend. I guffawed at the absurd proposal - "I don't know this friend," I said, I barely know you, I thought.
"Yeah, but he knows of you... it'd be fun." Oh.
"He knows of me?"
"Sure, they all do."
Oh.
"Anyway, it's totally up to you, obviously. But I'd love to have you. And it was his idea, so he's cool with it..."
Oh. "I don't know..."
"Ok, well think about it. And let me know."
Oh. "Ok."
A few jokes, a couple anecdotes, a few interruptions sparked by my sister, and then another question, "What are you doing two weeks from now?"
Oh.
He invited me out to this thing with his sister and her boyfriend - he promised the boyfriend a dinner since he fixed his laptop, and the sister will be back by then from vacation, so he's going to take them out. Would I like to come along?
"Uh, yeah, that'd be fun. I'd love to meet your sister."
WTF am I saying? OH OH OH!
And I'm thinking, "But I don't want a boyfriend. I don't want to commit. I don't want to settle. I don't want to think about you, or run to you, or miss you. I don't want to fight with you, or get mad at you, or piss you off."
And then I ask him what he did this weekend. "Well, Sunday, bla bla bla. And Saturday, bla bla bla. And Friday... I can't remember what I did Friday..."
"You were with me, loser."
"Oh yeah, no, I know, I didn't forget that, I just thought it was on Thursday for some reason..."
"Yeah, sure."
And then I think, "Dunja, why are you even on this?"
He teaches my sister some Spanish and says goodnight. And although we've been on the phone for hours, and there's really nothing left to say for today, the minute he's gone, I'm wishing he wasn't. And I realize, maybe it's already too late.
And still the world turns.
"Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind."
____________________________________________________________
I've been reading the paper cover to cover lately, and following the news very closely. My thoughts are constantly with the people of Lebanon and Israel and their families, and I find myself wishing there was more I could do then pay homage in thought. It seems that the world should stop to deal with this utter mess, and that nothing else should be the topic of discussion until people stop dying senslessly, but the world doesn't stop for anything, and neither has my life (despite how unfair that fact seems to me).
In my microcosm of existence, some things never change. The bitch at work is still a bitch, and frankly, I don't feel like writing about it. The personal lives of some of my friends are currently akin to soap opera scripts, but it'd be a complete invasion of privacy to get into most of it. Which leaves me talking about what I do at home (read the paper) and when I go out - and that's where *Beautiful Boy* comes in.
I spent two full days BB free, and then I caved and called him because I kind of missed him.
I was hoping he'd say something that'd tick me off or throw me off or blow me off, but he did no such thing.
We talked for hours, again. About everything; About Lebanon, and family, friends, and work, soccer, and the PM, grandparents, moms and how we do them, and the next two weeks.
His friend came online mid-conversation, and he was distracted for a few seconds as he fired off a couple messages. Then he invited me to join him and a few friends up at his friend's cottage this weekend. I guffawed at the absurd proposal - "I don't know this friend," I said, I barely know you, I thought.
"Yeah, but he knows of you... it'd be fun." Oh.
"He knows of me?"
"Sure, they all do."
Oh.
"Anyway, it's totally up to you, obviously. But I'd love to have you. And it was his idea, so he's cool with it..."
Oh. "I don't know..."
"Ok, well think about it. And let me know."
Oh. "Ok."
A few jokes, a couple anecdotes, a few interruptions sparked by my sister, and then another question, "What are you doing two weeks from now?"
Oh.
He invited me out to this thing with his sister and her boyfriend - he promised the boyfriend a dinner since he fixed his laptop, and the sister will be back by then from vacation, so he's going to take them out. Would I like to come along?
"Uh, yeah, that'd be fun. I'd love to meet your sister."
WTF am I saying? OH OH OH!
And I'm thinking, "But I don't want a boyfriend. I don't want to commit. I don't want to settle. I don't want to think about you, or run to you, or miss you. I don't want to fight with you, or get mad at you, or piss you off."
And then I ask him what he did this weekend. "Well, Sunday, bla bla bla. And Saturday, bla bla bla. And Friday... I can't remember what I did Friday..."
"You were with me, loser."
"Oh yeah, no, I know, I didn't forget that, I just thought it was on Thursday for some reason..."
"Yeah, sure."
And then I think, "Dunja, why are you even on this?"
He teaches my sister some Spanish and says goodnight. And although we've been on the phone for hours, and there's really nothing left to say for today, the minute he's gone, I'm wishing he wasn't. And I realize, maybe it's already too late.
And still the world turns.
posted by captain obvious at 1:13 a.m.
4 Comments:
isn't it a wonder how the media directs how we think and what we've started becoming passionate about?
for instance, last week there were seven simulaneous bomb blasts on a train line that my mother was almost on, in india. it too killed two hundred people but nary a peep was made of it in the news...and i'm sure it was allocated to the sixth or seventh page of that paper you've been reading. i guess the indians aren't as important coz they aren't sitting on barrels of oil!
just a thought
No, I read about that too, and was horrified. I think the reason the Lebanon thing is commanding so much attention (mine included) is because not only is it completely retarded, it's also a case of ONGOING retardation. I wake up every morning wondering, "Have they come to their senses yet?" As unfeeling as it may sound to say, one-time cases of terrorism aren't as psychologically fascinating. I can comprehend someone being insane enough to do something once, I have a harder time comprehending repeated acts of insanity.
I'm glad your mother is alright.
so you're justifying one set of deaths over another...
isn't that how warring nations think in the first place?!
just a(nother) thought! ;)
Just to clarify, "comprehend" =/= "justified".
No act of murder is justified in my mind.
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