Wired Mesh

I Like This Guy

Here is the thrilling terror of finding that a writer has somehow organized your last six months in three paragraphs:

"I am never satisfied with just one thing. There is one thing and then another. My life is occupied by worry after worry. The business of living complicated with projects, principles, financial matters, bills, taxes, songs to write, stories to edit, friends to call, family to consider in prayer, letters, lottery tickets, garbage days, the landlord’s voice mail, work, doctors, astrologers, bike messengers, exercise, eating, drinking, book design, indigestion, parking tickets.

"These things have set themselves on me like a big denim jacket. I am heavy with the signs of death. I am heavy with the work of the world that is death. I am not going to make it to the end. I have been put aside by the great big arm of God. He has gone somewhere else, in a different country, in a different language. I have walked all over the state, town to town, city to city, in search of meaning. The empty logging camps, the polluted rivers, the vacant parking lots, the burned out buildings, the bridges collapsed, the dysfunctional families, the potholes, the flat tires, the city taxes.

"Then there is the devil, with his convincing opinions, his euphemisms, his friendly chatter, his considerable presence. When all else has left you, he is waiting: patient, quiet, informed, good looking, articulate. I like this guy. He looks like me. He talks like me. We agree on everything. We eat the same foods. We watch the same movies. We think the same thoughts. We are exactly the same person."

-- Sufjan Stevens

Posted by mesh at July 21, 2004 05:22 PM | TrackBack