Thinking About You

“You know I’m such a fool

No, I’m not going to finish the lyric. That’s right, let that non-closed-quote statement float on this page like a balloon in the last moments of its buoyancy.

Because what’s left unsaid is making me sigh and that’s definitely a sign that things are

well

/sigh/

This past week has been an exercise in what I eloquently (note: sarcasm) phrased today as a “self-completing prophecy of doom.” I slept through class, ate poorly, missed a social experiment I’d volunteered to participate in and that would’ve paid, slept through a blood donation appointment, procrastinated all of my homework, slept during a class film screening, still don’t have a subject for my big PR final project, almost missed a writing deadline, and am currently struggling to write an internship application cover letter.

So much sleeping, and yet I’m still so tired. Sigh. Well that’s a sure sign that I’m “doing it wrong.”

That’s not to say that this week is dead in the water. No, I bid farewell to my internship, started up a real writing gig, helped surprise one of our freshmen with an impromptu chocolate fondue run in DTLA for his birthday, and hung out with some awesome folks that I really don’t spend that much time with. All of that was good, and this weekend promises to be good too—discussion, club, mailing out my internship application, shoe shopping (well, for other people, but I’ll be there), une petite soireé, sleepover times, food bank volunteering, a seminar on crowd-sourcing, another birthday celebration, and then maybe an NCAA water polo final gig. It seems like a lot when I write it all out, but there’ll be time to do, you know, whatever.

Anyway, what this is all really leading up to is, I spent my first free Tuesday afternoon in a while watching spoken word videos and marveling at the way these poets play with words and rhythm and shape their deliveries. Out of all the ones I watched, it’s the following that stuck with me the most:

*side note: it always startles me when websites make significant design changes; nice new “Add Media” panel, WordPress

Right. So. This guy. Mike. I don’t know what I was expecting, watching a video that was called “Thinking About You.” Those three words put together have more impact that “I love you” (at least to me), because whereas “I love you” can be employed in a friendly way, e.g. “Oh my god I love you, you’re so fabulous!!!”, “I’m thinking about you” has an overtone of wistfulness, of an unspoken “Are you thinking about me?”, of a desire formed in abstract thought that’s grounded in the physical world. I’m thinking about you—and it feels ???

What Mike does is describe that ???, and he does so in this earnest, charming, bashful, but emphatic way.

“I’m thinking about you when I get dressed because before I step on stage, when I look at myself in the mirror, you’re the only one I’m trying to impress.”

Excuse me, there’s something in my eye.

But actually. In a world where a Facebook “like” or a sudden text has enough subtext to inspire more critical analysis than is found in the average undergrad literature paper, it’s so heartening to hear something so sincere and so, for lack of a better word, cute. And yeah, that’s kind of negated by the fact that he ends up texting her those words, but still. Imagine getting a text from someone you cared about that read “I’m thinking about you.” It’s an organic statement, that can grow out of nothingness but doesn’t sound stilted.

After watching that performance, I took my own stab at poetry. It was painful. I did end up writing something that night, but it’s still really rough around the edges, and it might be something I actually want to perform before I ever publish it, even on here.

But it’s got me thiiiiinking, and not necessarily in a bad way (for once!). Normally, when I wander through the empty corridors of my mindspace, I bump into things that I’d rather not think about, e.g. assignments, social codes of conduct, high school, the like, but this time, I think I know what I want to do with these thoughts.

I’m certain that I’m not alone in occasionally drifting off into the stratosphere of daydreaming, but this time, let’s try to make some sense of this.

I don’t know how to write stage directions (though this isn’t a play), and I guess I could look that sort of thing up, but… nah.

So.

/deep breath/

(Image: Amatria by Carles Rodrigo, via razorshapes)

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