The rain was relentless but coincidental. This feeling must be chemical, but which one?

You know how people always say stuff like, “Do you think the color green you see is the same color green that I see?” and you’re like gee, I don’t really know.  Well, maybe feelings are like that too.  Maybe what one person calls ‘happy’ another would call ‘anxious’ or only ‘content’ and some people find ‘content’ to be ‘depressed’ and ‘happy’ to be ‘insane’.

When I think about stuff like that I just see myself sitting up in Twin Peaks with a friend looking out over the gray city.  She’s crying because she’s lonesome, and when I feel my eyes getting hot I say – because it’s what I tell myself everyday – “Right now we’re turning ourselves inside out trying to find the tag, so that when we’re 30 we’ll be pretty good people to know.”  It was the only half true thing I could think of, and I was never able to lie about something I didn’t at least partly believe.  It made me wonder if one person’s suicidal is another person’s bad day, and if that is true then how could we ever even begin to understand what people are talking about when they say, “Do you know what I mean?”

Two summers ago, a group of us were sitting on the window sill of an apartment downtown.  The sun was setting, and we were listening to DeVotchKa on the computer.  It was one of those rare instances where you realize you’re happy when you are happy.  Milo asked what we thought might happen if we were to suddenly have our brains replaced with someone else’s and had to try to think in the thoughts of another.  He suggested that the way other people think would be so foreign that the exercise would drive you to insanity, like listening to cats talk to goldfish in Russian.  I guess what I’m saying is that everything I ever said to you was true, if only you could have climbed into my head and seen what I meant.