Long winded? Please.

Bought that Doves CD, Lost Souls, and I'm currently listening to it. It's good. I can't get enough of the song The Man Who Told Everything. You should definitely check it out. I'm trying not to listen to it too much so that I don't wear it out, but it's proving quite difficult, considering that it's always in my head.

I faxed my resume to Bang-On today. Apparently the boards were off the front of the store in the mall and people were in there setting up. I really hope that doesn't mean they don't need me. Then I'd be sad. I'm already sad. I miss the praries.

So here's the thing: We (Matt, Amelia, Dana and I) just finished watching Donnie Darko, and I'm reminded of something. A feeling. The feeling. Like, did you guys ever read the book Who Has Seen the Wind by W.O. Mitchell? Matt and I read it in Grade 12 in Dalmeny. Anyways, it's written from the perspective of a ten-or-so year old boy, and he often talks about "the feeling". I think I know what he's talking about. Or maybe check out William Wordsworth's poem, Intimations of Immortality. It kind of talks about it too, and basically says how kids are closer to God having sooner come from His presence, whereas we forget what it's like as we grow older. I kind of think that's what the feeling is. Remembering heaven, and what it's like to actually be near God, like literally.

Ok, this probably isn't making much sense. That's the problem: it doesn't make much sense. It's seriously like trying to grab hold of the wind, if I may get philosophical. It's such a fleeting thing, this feeling, and so difficult to conjure up and virtually impossible to remember without something tangible (or perhaps intangible) to remind me. So that's what watching Donnie Darko did. It reminded me, but only a little bit. It's only ever a little bit. I sometimes get that from other movies as well. There's always been something about the movie The Labyrinth that reminds me, but I'm not sure what. It might be the bulge in David Bowie's tights. No, I'm just kidding, but that's still pretty cool ; ).

Anyways, there's this old Coke commercial, from about 1995, that used to come on all the time when I'd get home after school in grade seven and turn on the boob tube. I know, I know. It sounds pretty sad that I'd get this feeling from a Coke commercial, but hey, it's not like this is something I can control. Yeah, so anyway, in the commercial there's this group of kids that are just kind of hanging out, and they walk up this hill that has some sort of white chalk drawing on it or something, the kind of chalk you use to make lines on a track field, and these kids walk up these lines to this circle on the top of the hill. There's an image of a coke bottle in one of the margins on the screen, and these phrases pop up in the bottle, although I can't remember any of the phrases anymore. It was more about the images of the kids, but mostly the music. It was almost this Native American type chanting sort of music, but it always stirred something up in me. It made me sad, I guess, because I'd be sitting there watching these kids enjoying life, and I'd wish so badly that it was me, and that I could have friends like that, or I suppose just to have friends at all, period, and that I could be attractive to people. Yeah, I don't mean for this to turn into some sort of pity party or anything, but I had a pretty low self-esteem for awhile there.

Yeah, so I've been wanting desperately for the longest time to somehow get a copy of that commercial, by any means possible. It's just one of those things that I feel like I need to see again. Chances are it won't have the same effect anymore, but even if it doesn't, I still really want to see that commercial. If any of you know the one I'm talking about, and happen to have it on an old tape of your favourite shows from back in the day, please contact me. You can get me at cameron@bellamusic.org.

Who am I kidding? This is all kind of vague, and weird, and kind of lame, I guess, but I don't care. I really miss that feeling. I felt it a little bit when I was at home at the beginning of the month, and I got to witness a bit of a thunderstorm. I could just tell that God was in those dark, pregnant clouds. The Bible talks about His voice sounding like thunder, and the lightning in His footsteps. I was in His presence again, if only for a moment. Maybe I'll just have to wait till I get to heaven to truly feel again. I'm counting on it. Heck, God'll definitely have a copy of that commercial laying around somewhere. It's gonna be good times.

Yeah, random, I know. I've been reading lately. Terry Brooks' Magic Kingdom For Sale: Sold. Good book. I hope there's faeries in heaven. Maybe that's what angels are.