19 August 2001 ~ Jane sends her regard...

A struggle:

Am feeling sort of "caught in between." As though I don't really belong here, but as though there's really no other option at the present. Am having trouble defining my place in my surroundings. I feel as though I BECAME something new during my stay in Seattle, and I'm not sure how to stifle the new stuff and fit back into my nice, normal, quasi-dramatic Binghamton lifestyle.

I don't really know who I am right now. Some Buddhist guy, apparently a Buddhist guy of some importance, wrote once, "please do not ever worry; there is no way not to be who you are and where you are." I know that's true, and so I won't worry. But I'm not sure WHAT I am right now, and the identity of the "where" is sort of blurred and ambiguous...

Thus, a sense of melancholy. Last night, I thought, I wish my heart was broken... I wish I could cry... So I came home and tried EVERYTHING. I listened to Leonard Cohen singing "Famous Blue Raincoat" a couple of times. (NOTHING like a good love-triangle story to make me cry...) No tears. I played a couple more sad songs. Nothing. I gave up and played "Fantasize" by Liz Phair. I found "Boys on the Side" on TV, and watched the entirety of it. NO movie has ever made me cry as much as that, except possibly "Dancer in the Dark." But, no tears. Just an irritating melancholy tension.

I drank two wine coolers. I listened to "Famous Blue Raincoat" again. I tried to think about sad stuff. Broken up love affairs. Airplanes leaving. The depletion of salmon in the Pacific Northwest. Nothing. No tears.

I gave up, and read myself to sleep.

Today, still feeling a little sad, a little uncomfortable and discontent, I decided not to indulge in it at all, to pay it no mind. I drank lots and lots of caffeine. Gleefully, I ordered chicken wings over the phone from Tom and Marty's bar downtown. I picked up a CD, stuffed it into my discman, and skipped downtown. Halfway there, I was on the verge of sobbing.

The CD in my discman was labelled "Jane's First Demo." And there, ringing in my ears, was Jane's sweet voice, whispering out a few simple sad songs... I paid no attention to anything except her voice, so much more touching than the intricate sadness of Leonard Cohen, the overwhelming melodramatic ending of "Boys on the Side."

And now, back to my regularly-scheduled, un-provoked mild mood swings...

~Helena*