Oh Tennessee, what did you write? I come together in the middle of the night.

I am having the strangest day ever. I watched "Marie Antoinette" with my roommate Jimmy-Jam today after trying to see it for, like, three years? I loved it. I know and understand why a lot of people wouldn't, but I did and I loved the music in it too. I have liked this song for a really long time. The Strokes. "What Ever Happened?"

I wish that everyone who loved me or wanted to know me or understand me could see me in the moments that no one really does. It's what you do when no one is looking that makes you who you really are. That sounds sort of creepy I guess, but I don't mean it in a voyeuristic way... I just mean that you don't typically dance with abandon when you're with people, or sing as loudly in the car, or sit at your desk and type along to the same song for 15 minutes or an hour or two, to get the words as close to you as you can. Do you ever really let that last veil drop? But, if you could see without me showing you, since I am unable, you would know me so much better.

I was at the Post Secret event at GWU this week-end and made the comment that strangers being vulnerable makes me uncomfortable. (I think I said that bearing witness to other people's intimate moments makes me uncomfortable, actually.) Maybe that makes me a bad person or something, but I think that having that level of anonymity that Post Secret is founded on is what makes it work. The same way that I can sit here and reveal these incredibly personal things about myself on the internet and hide behind the relative safety of my computer screen. Even though there are people I know that read this, somehow it's easier to say it online rather than in person. I am better on paper anyway, where I can erase and reword and shift paragraphs around so that I sound relatively coherent.

And now that I have gone off on my tangent... So, it's been a weird day. A two nap, not enough food, ghost filled, completely unproductive sort of day. But, I heard this song while watching "Marie Antoinette" and Jimmy-Jam told me who it was, so I downloaded it. I have played it seven times in a row (so far) and as my bedroom is right above his studio, I'm sure he wants to kill me right now. But, it is making me feel more grounded, more strapped into my skin.

Sitting and writing has been something I've done fairly regularly for going on six years now, but for whatever reason, pouring it out to music is so much more cathartic. I think because it's a return to something that I used to do when I was growing up... if I wanted to learn the lyrics to something, or if I got a new CD or whatever, I would sit with the liner notes in front of me and just read along until it stuck. It's something that I really miss- as much as I love being able to have instant access to almost any individual song that I want, I think the care that used to go into entire albums isn't there across the board anymore. As such, you often have this disjointed view of a band or a song and its rare to come across an entire album that you spend time with and become invested in.

I really like The Strokes, more and more the longer I'm exposed to them. I remember when they first came out when I was a freshman in college and it was this really hopeful moment for music. It sounded so raw and relevant and just real. They've managed to maintain that stripped down sensibility throughout their career and I think its one of the reasons why so many people connect to them- they don't sound like they're trying so damn hard. I am a bit prejudiced- if you haven't noticed, I have no shortage of love for garage rock.

I wish I could pinpoint what it is about this particular song that does it for me. Julian Casablancas has such a distinctive voice. I love the way the song starts out so high and when it falls into him singing, the energy doesn't drop but just changes. The chorus comes before the verse here, which works so well. This song is really versatile- mood wise. You could dance to it or drive around to it or get slowly drunk to it. But, more than just that, I love how this song conveys such a specific complex emotion. The kind that isn't simply met by "happy" or "sad" or "frustrated" or even "confused", "conflicted" or "nostalgic".

Also. Tennessee Williams is my favorite playwright. And I do. Come together in the middle of the night. I have the most energy and ambition and my head is clearest when everyone good has long since gone to bed.