you realize.
I joined three cults today. Forgettable ones, that no one will ever take a third glance at. I suppose I've enjoyed how the week has gone by. I associated with more people than I thought I would. Social activity is good, especially if you have a minor case of split personality disorder. People also supplied hope for future activity as well.

My mother seems to be starving herself. I overheard her telling my father tonight while eating yet another piece of left over costco cake. It’s ok when friends starve. It’s weird when my mother does.

Suicide has drifted out of my mind for a while. Today, Sally came to Amber's house while I was there. I enjoyed seeing her because she has such a diverse mind and I love every conversation she engages with, weather I take part of it or not. But, unfortunately, Sally is one of this people who repeatedly tells me that we will employ in social activity, but in reality, I get the feeling she can care less. Which I'm fine with, I suppose. I think I need to forget the idea of us being friends, but rather acquaintance.


Kid A. Track four. The unremarkable track on the album that gets notices full speed, and then drops to the state of nothing. Unnoticed. In a state of readiness. Till the listener decides to pick up the trend of the masterpiece again. I went through this state couple months into my layer of life, radiohead.

Lyrics:
That there
That's not me
I go
Where I please
I walk through walls
I float down the Liffey
I'm not here
I'm not here
In a little while
I'll be gone
The moment's already passed
Yeah, it's gone
I'm not here
I'm not here
Strobe lights
And blown speakers
Fireworks
And hurricanes
I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here
I'm not here

Ok. Its late, but I’ll write.
This is a song I imagine was written about a teenager, or possibly an extremely insecure adult. The setting: A party. The person thinking up the lyrics, lets say it’s a guy, since I am a guy it’s easier for me to make similes. This guy is at a teenage party. Him being a teenager of course. He was invited by an invite, and once reached the party, he has realized he doesn’t belong there. This guy is always put down as an outcast around school and church and such, but before the party, his heart and emotions flew his life up high.

He’s mind set was determined that this was the night he would be noticed amongst his peers, he would finally be able to talk to the girl he likes, he will finally meet all the cool guys who just seem to relax and have fun all of the time. They all seem so perfect to him. He watches them talk and creates these assumptions of their lives. They possess no depression, no insecurities, no virginities. He wants to know them, to be them.

He arrives at the party only to find he is a society outcast there as well. He walks through the dance floor, going unnoticed, even sneered out at. He hears a girl whisper to her similar blonde best friend, “Who invited him?” He finds the snack table, and slowly slips down to the ground, and under the table, no one noticed. No one cared. As he lies there, under the table, the song writes itself.

That there, That's not me
The song has already started with the exact moment he stares at the people’s legs at the party from under the snack table. He sees the good looking, powerful, social able guy who is gently asking the girl, his girl, the one he was adored for months, to dance with him. He stares at this popularity king and thinks, that there. That isn’t me.

I go, Where I please
His mind set has changed once he noticed that the girl he masturbates to at night giggled off and accepted the better man’s proposal to dance. He imagines himself as the cool guy. That guy, in his mind, is everything. He can do anything. He can go where ever he wants, and do what he pleases. Laying there, under the table, his eyes widen, with jealously.

I walk through walls. I float down the Liffey
Seeing the social ably scene kid, dancing with his dream girl, pressed up against her, made the guy, laying on the floor, create more assumptions. He thinks to himself that he is worthless. He sees this other guy, able to get his girl, get friends, gets life, better than does. He continues to pretend his is this guy, and think he can walk through walls and float down the liffey. Imagination takes over his head.

I'm not here. I'm not here
Reality strikes back. He is reminded. That isn’t him dancing with that girl over there. He cant walk through walls or go where he wants. He is the nobody. Under the table. Dateless and emotionally shattered. He repeats to himself, he isn’t there, he isn’t there, none of this is happening.

In a little while. I'll be gone
He sees the front door between the people’s legs, thinking about leaving. But he cant, he has this attraction. He needs to see what’s going to happen next. Inside, he still has this small imagination that he might actually get the balls to get out of under the table, walk up, and take the arms of “his” girl, and dance with her. Although, he knows this will never happen, he still hopes. But he agrees with himself that soon, he will be gone.

Strobe lights. And blown speakers
Moving his eyes from the front door and the girl of his dreams, he gazes around the room, describing things around him that he sees. Strobe lights and speakers blasted so loud till they burst, both things are very commonly found at parties. Depresses him. He never had a party with any of these items. A cake and a candle. Few balloons. That’s all he has ever gotten.

Fireworks. And hurricanes
He starts creating humor. He thinks, what’s next at this party, did the parents of the host supply fireworks as well? Are they going to blast the neighbor down? Destroy this street like a hurricane just for some party.

I'm not here. This isn't happening
The song on the dance floor is competed and he glances up at the girl he likes with the popular guy. They walk off, he first assumption. Making out. He is lower than he’s ever been. The popcorn and chip filled floor starts to feel like it’s sinking. He wishes to himself, he isn’t there. None of this is happening.

I'm not here. I'm not here.
He closes his eyes and repearts it over and over. He isn’t there. He, doesn’t want to be there.
End.
The last line of the song is definitely the climax of the song. Thom lashes out his voice into a higher octave and makes the little hairs not only stand up, but dance around. His voice moves along with the whale sounds, repeating the word “here”

Anyways, that’s my interpretation of the song. Mostly likely, everyone else’s varies. That’s what I imagine when I hear this track though, Thom creates depth. I enjoy so much. The whale sounds are lovely as well. Like no other. Once the song starts, the guitar kicks in alternating between variations of the C and Em chord. Its lovely. Then, the bass riff. I think the bass riff described this guy’s emotions. Starts low, but builds its way up, only to go back down. I have another little story about Thom Yorke and Michael Stipe involving this song, but that’s for another day.


Tomorrow will consist of alcohol with Sara. I hope to visit a friend during the day though. I hope a friend contacts me first, rather than I go to them. I hope I have a friend.