Thursday, October 25, 2007

Emo

I'm a cuddle whore.

I guess it's lonely in Boston sometimes, even though I can hardly walk down a street without someone saying hi to me, someone asking how I'm doing and really seeming to want to know. I know a lot of people for having lived here a shorter period of time, but I'm going all adolescent now and feeling like no one knows me. I miss my friends in LA and Michigan and Indiana and wherever they are, but I do not call them as much as I should. I write fiction, I write my poems and read them, but what is that? Jme had this great line in a poem about Elliot Smith last night. To paraphrase, "the lovers who love the artist but hate the human it limps with."

Oh me. Let's go all emo, shall we? Isn't this just life? Isn't loneliness just the natural state of the developed cerebral cortex along with a heart pumping blood? Isn't that what all the writers and singers who've ever lived have been saying all along? Isn't that dull longing in the pit of the chest that we call love just loneliness inverted?

Yeah, call me emo. When I'm a vampire I paint down my cheeks tears of blood. Right now we call this ache emo. Ten years ago it was clinical depression. 400 years ago it was Melancholia. The art will live past the labels. Fling them at me. I will tack them to my wall till they lose their meaning, and the art will go on.

1 comment:

Gordon Marshall said...

Jme's the best. Human, and honest about his appetites. By the way, there's definitey an erotics to vampiring, the desire to be shocked and to shock. I think it's healthy.