if you leave it alone, it might just happen.. anyway its not up to you.. it never really was. --bjork:::vespertine::its not up to you
i'm caught hypnotized and remembering. the song playing now is bjork's pagan poetry and i can only remember driving home from a long trip, in the dark, winding around a really raised place. i remember it, being in the car with myself at the helm and having this song on repeat. this album lulling grown-ups into sleep. lulling me into the rhythm of a thin piece of highway, dark and refusing to tell me anything and this song.i'm out of water. that's what this does to me. this music without water. here i am.. supposing and supposing and too much too fast too serious ..unfit and wheezing amongst cynics who will laugh and speak curtly that nothing is sacred.
there was a spot that looked like pretend. looked like i had been there before. looked like when i used to play in the room in the house in san francisco on anza street. the room on the bed in the light brown laundry basket atop the bed in the center. me, remembering what that place looked like.. remembering another place on top of the actual place. the shabby, drafty room fell back and over it was something green and overgrown, browns and woods and everywhere an emptiness of people. so, as an adult, having had to drive through to get to nipomo california there were spots that were places i didn't know i could look for and find. there they were. looking like my pretend world had been. lush, dewy and possible. there i was again.
i didn't think this is what it would have been like. this isn't at all what i thought of when, then, i did think. its not what i saw.
and last night, watching and not speaking and being mindless was not how i pictured it. am i happy? possibly, maybe ..in jagged bite-sized, sloppily, shoddily made pieces of.. maybe its like peanut brittle, the pieces of misthought.
i still want light'ning. i want that man who will take me up in his hands and dance slowly. i still want my thoughts to be unspoken but heard. is it wrong? i still want performance and feeling and a spark of ignition of ghastly pure ..something. nothing. something. light'ning. courage. this is silly.
15:20 - Tuesday, Sept. 07, 2004
Recent entries:
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newlife.html">begin at the beginning. - 10 April 2008
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