if i'm boring anyone by posting journal entires from 4 years ago, speak up! if not, i'll keep 'em coming. it's a self-induced therapy session...and it feels good, especially while listening to frank sinatra's christmas album...
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
I finished The Perks tonight. It was a glorious ending. As I closed the book and set it on my passenger seat, I placed the receipt from Borders back inside the front cover. I had been using it as a bookmark and decided to keep it so I could remember the day I bought the book. These are the strange things I do sometimes. This book meant that much to me. As I turned my key in the ignition I realized that I just read one of the best books I have ever read in my entire life. I put the car in reverse, backed out of my parking space (I was legally parked by the way), and drove away from the harbor. I slowly turned up the volume on my CD player and the Howie Day song, She Says, flowed perfectly with the rhythm of the turn I was making. It’s funny how that happens. Or the last words of the song are being sung right as I’m coming to a stop. It’s times like those that make me wonder if someone is filming my life like Jim Carrey in The Truman Show. Maybe everything happens in the time it was designed to. Maybe it’s all in the script, every word that’s spoken, glance that’s given, song that plays in the background. And what if we think we have control over the decisions we make, but really they’ve already been made for us? And then I realize that I think about things like this more than what is considered healthy.
As I drove away from the harbor tonight, I decided that I am much like Charlie. I understood him and I felt that if he were here with me, he’d understand me too. I wonder if there’s anyone else in this world that would read this book and feel the same way. If there was, I’m sure we’d be great friends…but maybe not because we’d be too alike. Maybe that’s why we haven’t met. Because we’re better off not knowing each other...we barely know ourselves.
I’ll tell you more tomorrow. I have to find another book to read. I’ll be awfully bored tomorrow if I don’t, but I don’t know what’s worse, that or knowing that the book I do read will never be nearly as good as the one I just finished. Probably the latter. I’ll find a book to read anyway.