29 October 2006

a whiter shade

Lately, Jack White has been speaking to me.
I've never been a huge White Stripes fan. But the other day, the song Steady as She Goes by his other band the Raconteurs came up on my iPod, and I felt chemistry, I did. So I started playing more of his music. (Ok, the two White Stripes songs currrently on my iPod.)

Something, something in his voice is just utterly compelling. The rawness, the earnestness. I don't know, but it makes my stomach tingle just so. Not to be mistaken, I do not feel that same tingle when I see Jack White. The whole 'I look Goth but I'm not': meh. The wide circumference of his nostrils would just compel me to see if I could stuff a gerbil up his nose.

I just have a crush on a disembodied voice, that's all.
My feelings are similar to when you dream of kissing or cuddling someone you either don't know, hardly know or can't imagine even touching. Yet, the next day you wake up with an softness toward this person, even though, rationally, it's very creepy.

The emotional residue from dreams usually dissipates quickly, and I'm sure my infatuation with Jack White's voice will fade—especially once I realize that it's really difficult to have a relationship with a voice. (Though thousands of phone sex callers beg to differ.)

Until then, I'm going to Wichita.

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