Perils of assimilation

If only life came with subtitles.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Jeff Buckley

Oh, how I love Buckley Jr. His voice is pure, and he can hit higher notes(sans falsetto) than I can. He whispers and wails, and I don't know exactly what it is about his music that always seems to heal me. It's passionate and unforgiving. It's what I listen to when I'm depressed. I first heard this album when I was younger and thought nothing of it. But then this year, I started listening to it on a loop during one of my bouts of depression. It was rainy, and that rain absolved me of my sorrow. Had a troubling conversation with L. today, still feeling troubled. Just knowing he's on the other end of the phone calms me down immensely.

I don't particularly want to do any homework, and it's too cold to take a walk. I'm thinking of just readiing for a while and letting J.B.'s voice soothe me. Ems is back from work. I don't particulary like hanging about the room with her here. I think it's because we operate on totally different wavelengths, though we're both relatively private people. I reserve many things from certain people, I generally only confide in one person who can best help me with the situation, and I leave others in the dark. I never liked sharing my sacred space with my sister, and certainly not with someone I hardly speak to. I like Emily, I just don't like living with her. Next year will be much better with roommates I actually like.


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