I'm Stubborn, Selfish and Too Old

And feeling it.

Long day of introspection. Long day of pretty much nothing at all. If you walked past me on the street (and some of you just might have) you would have seen an unfocused, but determined gait, a stomp, if you will, thinking about the missing, or missing the thinking. Either way, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't snap me out of myself at the moment.

How does one represent oneself in a world so self-determined and undermined, with so many rules and pre-ordained ways to be?

I feel like the Big Lebowski, when he told The Dude, "Stong men also cry."

Except I'm not crying. I'm listening to Elbow's new album. Which is sort of the same thing, except that I'm letting Guy Garvey do the work for me, which is my druthers.

Jessalyn, again. The photo is a bit of a cheat. Three half-frame frames. Or one and a half 35mm frames. Or...

Whatever. My rules.



Listen. If you will.

"How dare the Premier ignore my invitations?
He'll have to go
So, too, the bunch he luncheons with
It's second on my list of things to do

At the top I'm stopping by
Your place of work and acting like
I haven't dreamed of you and I
And marriage in an orange grove
You are the only thing in any room you're ever in
I'm stubborn, selfish and too old.

I sat you down and told you how
the truest love that's ever found
Is for oneself
You pulled apart my theory
With a weary and disinterested sigh

So yes I guess I'm asking you
To back a horse that's good for glue
And nothing else
But find a man that's truer than,
Find a man that needs you more than I

Sit with me a while
And let me listen to you talk about
your dreams and your obsessions
I'll be quiet and confessional
The violets explode inside me
when I meet your eyes
Then I'm spinning and I'm diving
Like a cloud of starlings

Darling, is this love?"