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i'm so lonesome i could cry.
Mar. 21st, 2003 12:19 amJanuary 16th, 1991:
i started "going" with the boy who, two years later, would turn out to be my first boyfriend.
we went to war with iraq.
in my diary, the boy gets two pages-- the war gets one line.
i wasn't quite twelve, but i wrote a song
(a really not very good twelve-year-old's song)
in protest of the war.
i also wrote a number of songs about the boy.
but i never sang them at a peace vigil at church...
and they never got me in trouble with my vietnam-vet/war-supporting stepfather
when i left them lying around.
march 19th, 2003:
i sleep most of the day, spend time with my computer, miss my boyfriend (# something-ten-or-higher) who's in chicago for spring break.
we go to war with iraq.
in my journal, my ramblings get most of the post-- the war gets one line.
now i'm 24. (when did that happen?) and i still write songs.
but do i write them to protest a war?
i write them about love, about pain, about my daily existence. things this war doesn't feel like.
but i was asked to be part of a concert for peace, and i haven't decided yet.
they want 20-30 minutes of peace themed stuff.
do they realize that even at twelve, i wasn't that girl?
even if i wish i was, and sometimes, true, i do...
even if i wish i was, i don't know enough about the world their peace lives in
to write a song about it, let alone 20-30 minutes.
but at twelve, i didn't either. and i wrote it just the same.
so much has changed. i no longer go to church, or believe i have a step-father. i don't get in trouble for writing songs, and i don't write songs if i don't know what to say.
but war (this war) still gets only one line in my diary.
i'm not following this war. this isn't war to my mind. wars are something people fight because they are passionately committed to a cause. wars aren't this media circus that my friend ernie captured so well in his writings today. war shouldn't be something my "country" can go off to fight while i write a single sentence about it. i don't know, really, how it is i feel about this. just that it seems like one more thing most people in the world don't need right now. perhaps those we're fighting for, this war of 'iraqi freedom'-- perhaps they need it. but i doubt it. i doubt they need it like this.
so here i am, breaking my own pattern. more than one line about the war.
maybe i do have an opinion. i still don't know if it's one i can articulate well enough to share.
and perhaps, like always, i'm just running from the other thoughts in my head.
thinking about this because it's easier than thinking about other things.
all i know is that i'm tired. i wish i could reach any of the ones that could talk me into restful sleep... somehow i don't think that's something i'll find tonight.
i feel strange dreams approaching.
i started "going" with the boy who, two years later, would turn out to be my first boyfriend.
we went to war with iraq.
in my diary, the boy gets two pages-- the war gets one line.
i wasn't quite twelve, but i wrote a song
(a really not very good twelve-year-old's song)
in protest of the war.
i also wrote a number of songs about the boy.
but i never sang them at a peace vigil at church...
and they never got me in trouble with my vietnam-vet/war-supporting stepfather
when i left them lying around.
march 19th, 2003:
i sleep most of the day, spend time with my computer, miss my boyfriend (# something-ten-or-higher) who's in chicago for spring break.
we go to war with iraq.
in my journal, my ramblings get most of the post-- the war gets one line.
now i'm 24. (when did that happen?) and i still write songs.
but do i write them to protest a war?
i write them about love, about pain, about my daily existence. things this war doesn't feel like.
but i was asked to be part of a concert for peace, and i haven't decided yet.
they want 20-30 minutes of peace themed stuff.
do they realize that even at twelve, i wasn't that girl?
even if i wish i was, and sometimes, true, i do...
even if i wish i was, i don't know enough about the world their peace lives in
to write a song about it, let alone 20-30 minutes.
but at twelve, i didn't either. and i wrote it just the same.
so much has changed. i no longer go to church, or believe i have a step-father. i don't get in trouble for writing songs, and i don't write songs if i don't know what to say.
but war (this war) still gets only one line in my diary.
i'm not following this war. this isn't war to my mind. wars are something people fight because they are passionately committed to a cause. wars aren't this media circus that my friend ernie captured so well in his writings today. war shouldn't be something my "country" can go off to fight while i write a single sentence about it. i don't know, really, how it is i feel about this. just that it seems like one more thing most people in the world don't need right now. perhaps those we're fighting for, this war of 'iraqi freedom'-- perhaps they need it. but i doubt it. i doubt they need it like this.
so here i am, breaking my own pattern. more than one line about the war.
maybe i do have an opinion. i still don't know if it's one i can articulate well enough to share.
and perhaps, like always, i'm just running from the other thoughts in my head.
thinking about this because it's easier than thinking about other things.
all i know is that i'm tired. i wish i could reach any of the ones that could talk me into restful sleep... somehow i don't think that's something i'll find tonight.
i feel strange dreams approaching.
