I heard a song yesterday that touched me hard. (If you aren�t familiar with the group �death cab for cutie� you might want to have a listen to their CD Plans.) Track nine is a little diddie called �what Sara said�. The music is not particularly spectacular (although I believe it suits the piece) but the lyrics are dynamite. It rips at my heart and reeks of the truth and that isn�t the easiest thing to find in this world. Every day we are lied to, by the television, the government, the churches and finally ourselves, how refreshing to hear a breath of truth. What Sara said was �love is watching someone die�. It�s a powerful statement.

Imagine my surprise when I read my friend Zuzu�s entry We Were Children. Being there when someone dies is an expression of the truest form of love because it isn�t contingent on looks or what the other person can do for you. It is agonizing and ugly but it is the greatest most selfless gift you can give to another. (If you didn�t love him my friend your love (or sympathy) for humans is showing)

I listened to the song with my Darling. I didn�t let him see me cry in part because I forget that he is not my ex and will not necessarily belittle my emotional response and in part because I�m afraid he will. He didn�t seem to experience the same level of emotion that I did (or if he did he hid it well).

My mind is teeming with so many levels of feelings. This comes on the heels of my recent birthday and subsequent internal exploration so one must wonder again about the blue car effect. If you have never about the blue car effect simply it is this; when you buy a blue car or a particular make you will see that car everywhere for the first few months. The idea that there are more of them is an illusion; you simply pay more attention to the color and make of cars like yours after your purchase. Still the thoughts are there and thus they must be addressed.

You might also check out �mind and body� from the same CD where the singer claims �I want to live where mind meets body�. I have been longing for the feeling of living inside myself, living in the moment, experiencing life instead of simply marking time. It�s easy to complain about not living up to potential or expectations it�s hard to live up to them and harder yet to simply live without expectations or compensation.

How is it that some people don�t experience this driving need to understand and live? Why don�t people read anymore? Who will talk to me about life and death? Why are people so afraid of thinking about it? Why aren�t they more afraid of ignoring it?

No one gets out of here alive, who�s gonna watch you die?

I wish you Peace

~alison~

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