sol-ip-sism
the theory that only the self exists or can be proved to exist.

to sum up many hours, days, months, years...
i remember saying things, but i have no idea what was said. it was generally a friendly conversation.
it's no one's fault, really. or maybe it's everyone's fault.
the mass media causes sexual misdirection: it prompts us to need something deeper than what we want. This is why woody allen has made nebbish guys cool; he makes people assume there is something profound about having a relationship based on witty conversation and intellectual discourse. there isn't. it's just another gimmick, and it's no different than wanting to be with someone because they're thin or rich or the former lead singer of whiskeytown. and it actually might be worse, because an intellectual relationship isn't real at all. my witty banter and cerebral discourse is always completely contrived....
very soon, i will have nothing more to say, and we will be sitting across from each other at breakfast, completely devoid of banter; he will feel betrayed and foolish, and i will suddenly find myself actively trying to avoid spending time with a man i didn't deserve to be with in the first place.
[this is NOT my current case-perfection as i know it is at my fingertips {appreciation}]
perhaps this sounds depressing. that is not my intention. i am only proving a point. this is all normal. there's not a lot to say during breakfast. i mean, you just woke up, you know? nothing has happened. if neither person had an especially weird dream and nobody burned the toast, breakfast is just the time for chewing cocoa puffs and/or wishing you were still asleep. but we've been convinced not to think like that, silence is only supposed to happen as a manifestation of supreme actualization, where both parties are so at peace with their emotional connection that it cannot be expressed through the rudimentary tools of the lexicon; otherwise, silence is proof that the magic is gone and the relationship is over (hence the phrase "we just don't talk anymore"). for those of us who grew up in the media age, the only good silence is the kind described by the hair metal band Extreme. "more than words is all i ever needed you to show," explained gary cherone on the pornograffiti album. "then you wouldn't have to say that you love me, cause i'd already know." This is the difference between art and life: in art, not talking is never an extension of having nothing to say; not talking always means something. and now that art and life have become completely interchangable, we're forced to live inside the acoustic power chords of nuno bettencourt, even if most of us don't know who the fuck nuno bettencourt is.

i believe in life.
& with that comes, love, art, thought, beauty...
heaven on earth