I talked to an atheist today, and this is what I learned.

I am eternal.
I am NOT finite.

God is a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere. I know he exists.
Without God, there would be nothing. Because God is necessary for freedom, for thought, for causation, for truth. God has shown himself to me by means of music.

So even if I know nothing else, I now know that God exists, and I am eternal.

I want to live where soul meets body.

I think he's ignoring me now. But no matter, because I will find out. I am going to confront him about this and get an answer.

If this isn't love, then this is the closest I've ever been

I sent him an email:

So when are we gonna get started on all these movies I need to see?

He hasn't responded yet. I wish he would. I'm so nervous. What if he's annoyed with me? What if he doesn't want to deal with me anymore?

He can't just tell me I'm cute and leave.

Is this yet another failure? Is this even possible?

I thought something was going on between us. Maybe we're just friends.
I asked him for his number, since he had mine. He willingly obliged.
I texted him, mentioning a funny thing we did on Sunday.

He never texted back.


Are we only platonic friends, an ambivalent duo of friends, whom shared one long night, one vulnerable night of endless conversation? Is there nothing more to us?

I suppose this is possible. That he just isn't interested in me "that way". But he flat-out told me that he thought I was cute. And he invited himself over. And we talked, alone, for over twelve hours! And now I'm the one chasing him.

I hate this.

An Enquiry Considering Parentage and Self Loving/Loathing

My mother is so goal-oriented. It's ridiculous. She doesn't appreciate the journey, as corny and cliche as it seems, at all. I told her that I decided to minor in philosophy. She responded, incredulously, "you know that won't help you at all, right?" When I told her that I would graduate in eight years instead of seven, she responded, "won't that set you back?" When I tell her of beautiful novels, of the immeasurable glory of art, she can't comprehend any of it. My mother only loves art as long as it entertains her. If what she reads is not titillating, bordering on the obscene, she cannot appreciate it. Subtleties are lost.

My father, a quite different fellow, just does not care. He thinks of nothing. My father is apathy in the extreme. If it holds any lasting value, it matters not to him. Importance is lost.

I think this somehow relates to the empty self. How in modern society, without our absolutes, we are empty. My mother fills this emptiness with success and material objects. She is never happy with the worldly things she has. She always, always wants more. My father fills himself with alcohol. He drinks until he cannot think of those important things which (I conjecture) he does not want to brood over.

I, a significant departure from both, cannot seem to stop thinking. Never. I am incapable of irresponsibility. Of "having fun" with no consequence. When I hear people talk of one-night stands, I cannot grasp why anyone would want to do such a thing. I do not want anything of this world.

Now, because of this, I feel so self-rightgeous. I think I've got it all figured out. How could anyone ever love someone so extremely arrogant?

I hate myself most when I love myself; I love myself most when I hate myself.

This is the the most insightful and truthful song I have heard in a while.

THE TRUTH IS A WHISPER AND ONLY A CHOICE.
Nobody hears above this noise. (Do they even...)
It's always a risk when you try to believe. (I know there's something...)
I know there's so much more than me.

And I got caught in the Ruse of the World
It's just a promise no one ever keeps.
And now it's changing while you sleep,
and no one here can see.

You know all I am (feel this moment in you)
You know all I am (can you teach me to believe in something?)

Sometimes you choke on the smell just to breathe.
I need to question what I need.
Rhythm of silence that beats through your mind.
Still you forget what you deny.

And I got caught in the Ruse of the World
It's just a promise no one ever keeps.
And now it's changing while you sleep,
and no one here can see.

Who's the one you answer to?
Do you listen when he speaks?
Or is everything for you?

And do you find it hard to sleep?
Or is it easy on your own?
And will you ever find some peace
Before you're gone?

I've just seen a face...

Mr. Mellow came over Sunday night. I was im-ing him on facebook, and then he asked me "do you want to continue this conversation in person?" Obviously, I was freaking out. I have never done this. Eighteen years old, and I'm more virginal than most middle schoolers. My wonderful best friend kept encouraging me, making me laugh, so that when he got here, I was at least not hyperventilating.

So he got to my dorm at about eight o'clock. I had not eaten dinner, but I wasn't about to turn down such an opportunity. I was so nervous about what we would do. My hands were clammy, my teeth were chattering, and I experienced an inexplicable sudden chill. What is a girl supposed to do in such a situation?

But the situation unfolded such that my fears were assuaged. We had no problem talking. We talked so well, we talked for twelve hours. Twelve Hours! He didn't leave until eight o'clock in the morning! I was so tired, but so unwilling to ask him to leave. There was never a sense of an awkward silence, although occasionally there was silence. It felt so normal. Except for my momentary freakouts, the moments when I realized what was happening- I was hanging out with this boy one-on-one!

Our conversation consisted of innumerable topics, from him convincing me that I could have any man I choose (something I still don't quite believe), to us describing each other with three adjectives (at which point he stated: "Well, you're average height, I guess, and you are brunette, and I could say you're smart... but I don't want to give you an ego boost, so... I guess I'll just put it out there. You're cute."), and debating how I would escape if he chose to attack me (which obviously involved some playful physical contact). Finally, at eight a.m., at which time both of us were clearly too tired to make much conversation, he left. And I couldn't believe it- I just stayed up until eight a.m. talking with this boy.

So now, I think it's mutually understood that we're interested in each other. But I don't know what to do next. I don't have his number, although he has mine. He wouldn't hang out with me willingly for twelve hours if he wasn't interested, right? He told me I was cute! I hope this turns out all right. Because this is the closest I've ever been.