KRAMER (moves over and sits next to George): Do you ever yearn?
GEORGE: Yearn? Do I yearn?
KRAMER: I yearn.
GEORGE: You yearn.
KRAMER: Oh, yes. Yes, I yearn. Often, I...I sit...and yearn. Have you yearned?
GEORGE: Well, not recently. I craved. I crave all the time, constant craving...but I haven't yearned.
KRAMER (in disgust): Look at you.
GEORGE: Aw, Kramer, don't start...
KRAMER (moving back to the other side of the booth): You're wasting your life.
GEORGE: I am not! What you call wasting, I call living! I'm living my life!
KRAMER: O.K., like what? No, tell me! Do you have a job?
KRAMER: You got money?
KRAMER: Do you have a woman?
KRAMER: Do you have any prospects?
KRAMER: You got anything on the horizon?
KRAMER: Do you have any action at all?
KRAMER: Do you have any conceivable reason for even getting up in the morning?
GEORGE: I like to get the Daily News!
KRAMER: George, it's time for us to grow up - and be men. Not little boys.
KRAMER: I'm goin' to California. You know, I got the bug.
GEORGE: Yeah, I think I got a touch of something, too.
KRAMER: No, the acting bug. Ever since I was in that Woody Allen movie.
GEORGE: "These pretzels are making me thirsty"? That was one line! You got fired!
KRAMER: I know, I know, but man! I never felt so alive! Now, are you coming with me?
GEORGE: Uh, no, I'm not.
KRAMER: Alright, suit yourself. But let's keep this between us - we're key brothers now. [Gets up to leave.]
GEORGE: You're not really gonna go to California, are you?
KRAMER (points to his head): Up here, I'm already gone. [Kramer exits.]
That is like something out of Ros & Guil. I really like that scene.
It has become that time of year again. Nature has not yet hunkered down for the long winter, but I am, in my own way, preparing.
I have given up shaving, for the time being. I haven't had a haircut in months. I suppose I'm finally heeding Mr. Clark's advice ("Either hair longer than hers [points to some random girl], or completely shaved"). I'm not sure how long this will go on. I am fickle.
I haven't written songs (words nor music), or even played guitar in a while (band practice doesn't really count for this). I have that usual perception of writer's block, inadequacy in subjects, insight, original riffs, or interesting progressions or melodies. But I'm pretty sure it's not true, it's just my perception of my own writing.
It's a time when I think half of my classes are below me and the other half are pretty much useless. I suppose 'yearn' is a good word for this mood, this moment.
I read about a homeless guy in The Tallahassee Democrat today. A homeless guy that blogs. Well, he didn't use to be homeless. He used to hold down jobs as a circuit designer, making upwards of $75,000 a year, but he drank too much and lost all of his jobs. And his family. Now he goes to the day labor pool and seeks out shelters here in Tallahassee. He updates his blog in the public library. Half of the article was excerpts from his posts, which revolve mainly around political agendas and only recently addressed his homelessness.
I've had many times where I've had so much stuff to do, and procrastinated for so long, that when I finally have time to get stuff done, I just sit around and do nothing for a couple of hours. It's kind of like an "in too deep already," shell-shocked mentality, and I don't think it's all that healthy for me. But it has worked so far, so maybe I'm needlessly worrying about it (and wasting time in the process).
I keep buying more CDs, but I also keep going back to the same three: Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, and Nada Surf's The Weight is a Gift and Let Go. I think they complement the feeling of yearning and approaching winter rather well.