me...

i have cried many times over the loss of Douglas Adams. It's a connection i have never succeeded in explaining to anyone; i never met him.

Last night, i did. Though kind and honest, he was sort of vacant - maybe because that's how i imagine he was, maybe because i didn't know him, or maybe because Sartre's Death is as infectious as Dante's. We were sitting on the living room floor of my grandmother's house. i may have been much younger. i spent a lot of time convincing him how much he'd changed my life; it was hard for him to believe. When my father came in and sat on the sofa, oblivious, we discussed that empty relationship.

Shortly after waking, i had tears in my eyes before i knew why. Neither of my parents is a bad person, but from my earliest perceptions there were never any real connections. It was as if we had the same vocabulary, but all the meanings and syntax were different. For a brief dream moment, i knew what it was to have a dad.

It occurs to me that some readers may come to this weblog for philosophy, and end up with my dreams. i've therefore decided to start a dream journal at achildawake.blogspot.com. See you there!

Current Mood: alien
Current Music: "Mind your manners. Watch your weight. Be a good boy. Just behave. What's wrong with you? Settle down. Keep your two feet on the ground. Sit up straight. Stand up tall. Never falter. Never fall. Stay in school. Make the grade. Never fail. And never fade. Be a hero. Be a star. Anything but what you are. Find a girl to possess. Always pay, pursue, protect. Be a master. Be a slave. Work your ass into an early grave." - To Be Loved, Curtis Stigers (Dawson's Creek Soundtrack)

posted by Arthur @ 9/04/2002 11:42:00 PM

Wednesday, September 04, 2002