Saturday, March 19, 2005

The problem with being too openminded is that your brains might fall out.

It's been a while, I know. I'm too busy, and with things I care nothing for. Ugh. I love that the day I turned in my big ol' Milton paper in English class, my teacher assigned us a project on The Picture of Dorian Gray and gave us Frankenstein to read. Damn, woman!--I love English but give me a break for one weekend!

I spent a long time today reading my Religion textbooks, because the midterm is coming up and boy am I nervous. Then I listened to Neil Young and read old issues of the New York Times Magazine, but only the articles on zany things like Rufus Wainwright's apartment (his fridge is full of chocolate ice cream and Perrier! I know he almost went blind from meth--I still identify with him) and the genius of Jonathan Safran Foer. I want to read his new book... I think it's called Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. And Ulysses. And Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses. And Dharma Bums. There are so many books, why am I wasting my time studying for a Religion exam?! There are too many great books, I don't have enough time.

Yesterday M. and I talked about Franny and Zooey all class. They're just two of the most perfect character sketches, huge human minds and personalities and vastness condensed to a hundred pages each. I told him to read Raise High the Roofbeams Carpenters and Seymour an Introduction, because Seymour's the best of the Glass clan. Seymour is maybe my favorite person. Not my favorite person in literature. Just my favorite person.

I identify more with book characters than human characters, sometimes. Or, I get inside their heads more. It’s hard to explain. But I mean… in Kavalier and Clay, I felt like Joe was my brother by the end. Even my brother doesn’t feel like my brother sometimes.

I think that identifying with things too quickly can be a problem. Today I was at the hospital and as I was wheeling this woman down for an X-Ray, she was sobbing in pain. Not screaming, just sobbing. My chest got all constricted and my neck got prickly and my hands started shaking, and all of a sudden I was in pain. It was awful, I didn’t know what to make of it. I’ve never been in any really extreme pain in my life. But this woman—I felt so helpless because I couldn’t make her feel any better, I just tried to say comforting things but I just wanted to take away her pain. God. It was really upsetting. What do you say to someone in that much pain? What can you do?

Then I came home and my sister… I can’t take away her pain either. I don’t know what to do for her, I try everything. There’s nothing.

And now I’m supposed to focus on homework? Oh lord. I need an invisible day snuggled in between Saturday and Sunday, one where nobody calls up and nobody gets upset and I have no obligations, I just sit quietly. That would be nice.

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