Tonight, We Are Young.

Do we talk anymore?
Maybe that's the wrong way of putting it.  I know we talk.  I talk all day long.  But do we actually say anything?
This sounds so pretentious and existential and hipster, but that's not my intention.  I just miss the days that I would stay up into the night talking with good friends about life and dreams and love and sex and God for hours and hours just because we could.
And now when I spend time with friends, we talk about our days and our plans and work and surface things.  We don't talk about what it would be like to be a fly on the wall or why we're afraid of relationships.  Are we too busy?  Or have we passed the age that people do this?
I just had a great night.
Kesh and Robby (her boyfriend) came to visit last night.  Tonight we went to a huge block party in the downtown area by my apartment, and then came back to my apartment.  It was nice to hang out in our (almost) complete group with Laura, Teebs, Kesh, Robby, and I.  And then Laura and Teebs left and Robby and Kesh and I had really great conversations for about two hours.  We laughed and talked and wondered and it was just a great night.  I miss great conversations.
And now I'm in an excellent mood.
Like, I could listen to John Foreman's Fall album and not be sad (it's a horribly depressing album).
I'm listening to spoken word artists and thinking deep thoughts and wondering why people hurt other people.
I watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower today.  It killed me.  I didn't have very high expectations but it was really great.  The story kills me.  So good.
Life is just crazy.
This probably all sounds so odd.  Like I'm stoned or something.
I'm not, for the record.  But when was the last time that I sat and thought about how complex and wonderous and beautiful the world is?
How crazy it is that the sun is lighting another part of the world while we're in nighttime.  Other lives, with jobs and dreams and loves and thoughts.  It's crazy.  The world is so big.  And miraculous and crazy.
And my internship doesn't matter.
My car doesn't matter.
My clothes don't matter.
Moments like this matter.
Seeing the wonder and being inspired is what matters.
These are the moments that I feel like God is everywhere, flowing through everything.
The best of nights.

Listen to some Andrea Gibson; so good.

this is my favorite part:

this is for the grandmother who walked a thousand miles on broken glass
to find that single patch of grass to plant a family tree
where the fruit would grow to laugh
for the ones who know the math of war
has always been subtraction
so they live like an action of addition
for you when you give like every star is wishing on you
and for the people still wishing on stars
this is for you too

this is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn’t have to
for the time you taught a 14 year old girl she was powerful
this is for the time you taught a 14 year old boy he was beautiful
for the radical anarchist asking a republican to dance
cause what’s the chance of everyone moving from right to left
if the only moves they see are NBC and CBS
this is for the no becoming yes
for scars becoming breath
for saying i love you to people who will never say it to us
for scraping away the rust and remembering how to shine
for the dime you gave away when you didn’t have a penny
for the many beautiful things we do
for every song we’ve ever sung
for refusing to believe in miracles
because miracles are the impossible coming true
and everything is possible