Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Recipe for a perfect day:

Wake up at an actual people time [10:45am]. Make sure the new National album is on your iPod. Get dressed up. Drive through gorgeous Colorado from Littleton to Denver to meet your high school wife for lunch next to the DCPA at the coffee shop where you applied for your first job when you were 18. Spill your whole heart out over salads and chai lattes and know you are safe with this person who you used to have daily post-school phone calls with about the same person you're spilling about this time. Because everything has changed. Except for some things.

Spend the rest of the afternoon in Cap Hill photographing street art, running into your college friend who works at City O City, and drink chai there for hours while finishing reading your friend's first novel and photographing bathroom graffiti.

Go to the hardest yoga class you've ever taken. Practically pass out from the intensity of remaining in utkatasana for five fucking minutes [I am not exaggerating]. But realize that it's completely worth every moment of pain because this is the best yoga class you've ever taken. Because you all started the class with a chant aimed at sending positive energy to everyone in Oklahoma. And even though you don't know how much you believe in certain aspects of this practice yet, you do know one thing, which is that your worst fears as a child were tied between 1) your house spontaneously combusting and 2) a tornado coming and ripping you and your family and your entire home, neighborhood, and life away. And you know that even if you don't fully believe that the energy of a room full of strangers can affect devastated and scared children in Oklahoma, you give it your all because you'd do anything to try and help them stop feeling what you always feared you'd feel at their age.
Meet your parents at your favorite restaurant in Denver [ChoLon] for the best dinner ever, for which you have to pay zero dollars.

Drive home listening to The National just as the mountains darken into silhouettes of themselves and run over and over in your mind the thing your father said as you parted ways at dinner: you're in love with a ghost.

Am I?

All the while, The National's new lyrics run through your head. My head...

When I think of you in the city, 
The sight of you among the sites. 
I get this sudden sinking feeling, 
Of a man about to fly. 
Never kept me up before, 
Now I've been awake for days. 
I can't fight it anymore, 
I'm going through an awkward phase. 
I am secretly in love with, 
Everyone that I grew up with. 
Do my crying underwater, I can't get down any farther. 
All my drowning friends can see, 
Now there is no running from it.
It's become the crux of me, 
I wish that I could rise above it.
I have faith but don't believe you
This love ain't enough to leave you. 
Everything I love is on the table. 
Everything I love is out to sea.
There's a science to walking through windows
There's a science to walking through windows without you

I don't want you to grieve
But I want you to sympathize (alright) 
I can't blame you for losing 
Your mind for a little while (so did I) 
I don't want you to change 
But I want you to recognize (that I)
Tunnel vision lights my way
You didn't see me I was falling apart 
I was a television version of a person with a broken heart


I'm not holding out for you 
I'm still watching for the signs 
If I tried you'd probably be 
Hard to find

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