So, this afternoon, despite my sonic explorations on Epitonic, I have had a standard in my head: Every Time We Say Goodbye. What can I say? When it comes down to it, I am a singer and all the weirdo, avant-garde unsingable music, while stimulating to my mind and ear, can only hold my heart's (or spleen's, if you want to get Baudelairien) interest for so long.

Of course, this song is in my mind for a reason. Tonight, one of my favorite people in Paris will get on a train to go back to Munich, to her family, to her friends, to her studies. And Thursday night I attended yet another event in a seemingly endless stream of going away parties and housewarmings. Seems like "my clique" will inevitably be a malleable hodgepodge of wanderers and dreamers, coming and going, profiting as much as we can from life, but never staying still. And those friends who do stay still, go in and out of focus as I scurry around trying to figure out where the hell I am supposed to be and what I could possibly do in this world to be useful.

But no matter how many times I have to say goodbye to people, I always become irrationally upset. It is a brief wave of desperation, like I just can't hold on to anything. Soon, rationality heals my panic, and I go on with life, but I rarely forget someone. In fact, I rarely say goodbye anymore. I simply say, "until the next time." I wonder if it is some kind of Freudian separation anxiety, rooted somewhere in the dark corners of my childhood? Or perhaps not forgetting others is my way of combatting being forgotten by them. In any case, it is this disturbed side of my personality that probably inspired me to write this blog, so I guess we are all benefitting from it! Once again, solution: embrace your crazy!