Today has been OK

Haven't finished my Marx readings, but I did everything else expected of me, so I'm forgiving myself for escaping with my headphones. It's amazing what listening to just one song, in the dark, through headphones, can do.

Tomorrow is Halloween. Shit. I don't feel like I have the energy for Halloween right now... maybe if I could stall it for a week, sort of put it off and make everyone play along when I actually feel like putting on a mask and having Fun. "Fun" is such a weird concept - I kind of wish there weren't established times for it. Trying to have Fun when you don't feel like it is kind of horrible. Like dancing when you don't feel like it. Like people trying to cheer you up when you physically need to be sad or you'll spontaneously combust.

It's a Monday, let me be.

Last weekend was Parents Weekend, or Parent's Weekend, but I don't think so. The weekend does sort of belong to them, but not enough for an apostrophe. I saw my parents - again, as I've seen them a lot lately - and my sister. I went to a lecture on Language and Thought, which was interesting. I ate bad "Texan" food, which was bad. I breathed in smoke, I felt sad, I walked in the cold air, I watched others eat Thai food, I saw an orchestrated and vocal performance of a Carmen song (the one everyone knows, that I love). I ate expensive cheesecake with Upekha's family and my sister, which was good. It was a weird Saturday.

Sunday Gina and I went to Wicker Park, which I like normally. It's tremendously indie, in ways that make me want to gag a little sometimes, but it remains true to the idea that there can be ideas, which is different from Hastings. We went to American Apparel, which seemed exciting. Made in America! But it was all unicolor, somewhat odd clothing. We went to a vintage shop, to a used book store. I bought "Lolita".

There's something occasionally strangely depressing about riding the el at night. Maybe it's the smell, or the dirtiness, or the looks on the people's faces. Someone told me once: "Everything depresses you," which is not true, but valid in the sense that really random things depress me really quickly. Not deeply, just quickly.

I am not depressed right now. I am pondering stupidly. And I am listening to "In My Lady's House", which is a song that sounds beautiful, like a pillow. A pillow is kind of beautiful. Wait, no. A pillow is functional.

I was thinking some about love, and its relationship to touch. To be touched is to be healed, and to be healed is to be cared for, and to be cared for is to bond, and to bond is to love. QED, love and touch are closely related. But it's not an if-and-only-if. Love doesn't require touch, but touch hastens love. Though it should be noted that I'm not in it, it being love, and am pondering stupidly.

Hm. Bed.