Colin Hay – Overkill
There are times that I’m happy to be a single 22-year-old kid on the verge of graduation and on the brink of entering “the real world”, whatever the hell that means. This isn’t one of those nights. I find that nothing makes me feel more single than watching a movie like “Love Actually”, not to depress myself but instead to reinforce the argument that I’m having with a friend that it is not a Christmas movie but instead a fine movie about love and relationships. And during the course of the film, I heard my buddy’s girlfriend say (when she called and found out that yes, two grown men were watching “Love Actually”) “That’s our movie.” And I realized how much I missed that. I miss being with someone and you have things that are important and while I think things like “our song” are very junior high but I like them anyway. That idea that you hear a song and it instantly signifies and represents not only itself but an entire relationship, every memory you’ve had with that person in two and a half minutes, is really fucking heartwarming. I like concepts like “our movie”, “our song”, “our restaurant”, you get the point. That is a concept that I buy into and at this moment.. miss. There’s a line from a Barenaked Ladies song (Yes I like BNL.. step off…they’re early stuff was great.. anything after Stunt was just nonsense) “This sentimentality doesn’t look good on me” and that’s how I feel sometimes. I don’t much like this headspace that I find myself in.. this brooding, “emo”, sensitive guy… it’s not a role that I think I play particularly well or subtly. I just feel like an absolute moron sometimes for being so sincere and so genuine about everything in my life when everyone else is so fake… and it’s working for them or at least that’s what it looks like. And I’m either too stubborn or too fucking stupid to stop being so genuine and sincere about the way I feel that I can’t seem to get out of my own way. I know this is the lamest journal of mine to date and I apologize to anyone reading this… but this is kind of who I am. I wear my heart on my sleeve.. for better or worse.. more often than not it’s worse. I guess I’m just wondering at what point you stop being an idealist and start being an adult and realize that these things that you’re holding out for, that maybe you had for a moment in time aren’t real and that part of being an adult is being jaded and cynical enough to realize that those memories are memories as in remnants of the past. Look at that run on sentence, I defy anyone to find a period in there anywhere. My 7th grade English teacher, Mr. Falk would be mortified. Sorry, Mr. Falk. I just wondering where the payoff comes.. the moment where all the girls who insisted being sensitive was a good thing are actually right because I gotta be honest so far, I would argue the opposite is true. It doesn’t pay to be nice, sensitive or sweet. And I think a lot of the time, this comes off as desperation.. like I’m desperate to be with someone and that’s not it at all. I’m just ready for something real because in the past year, I’ve had a lot of imposters, a lot of imitation. I know I’m going to regret writing this.. nights like this I wish I drank because I could just claim to be drunk..
Hero(es) of the Day: