I remember one morning back in October, back when I was living in San Francisco, I had to leave my dorm at 4:45 am to catch the 5 am BART. I was taking the BART to SFO, so I could fly home and surprise my VHS friends. I know, there were far too many acronyms in that last sentence. Anyways, I left my dorm at 4:45 am, all bundled up in my thick black coat and wearing my Beatle boots with my small black luggage in tow. I gave an acknowledgment nod to the guy working the front desk of our dorm building, and he gave one back. I'd never been out walking around in the city this early in the morning [or this late at night, however you decide to look at it], and I was a little weary of doing so. My dorm wasn't exactly in the best of neighborhoods, and walking around during the day always proposed a slight risk, I could only imagine what it would be like at this hour. I took a deep breath and opened up the glass doors of my dorm building to be greeted by the cold and brisk night/morning air. I was surprised at what I saw.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing and no one. Only streetlights and taillights. There were hardly any people. I started walking down Sutter St. towards Powell, my Beatle boots clicking along the cement, and was filled with extreme wonderment. I could not believe how deserted it was and how safe I felt. My rolling suitcase clicked along with my boots, and almost echoed within these empty and dimly lit streets. I tell ya, Union Square is beautiful when it is deserted. It's beautiful anyway, especially at night when all the lights are on and the decorations in the department stores are aglow, but there is no comparison to what it's like when the noise stops, the people stop, and it just sits there as still as can be. Nothing moves. It was the first time I'd been able to walk down Sutter St. and not be hassled. It was amazing.
I wrote hundreds of poems in my head about its beauty as soon as I reached the BART station, but they were of course lost in the depths of my mind as the hours wore on. Before that point, I hadn't really enjoyed the city and could only ever think about coming home, but as soon as that happened...well, that was the first time I genuinely felt an attachment to the city, where it genuinely impressed me. I'd been doing all the touristy things before that [Union Square, Nob Hill, Haight-Ashbury, Balmy Alley], and they were all amazing, and I did enjoy wandering about those places, but it wasn't until that cold morning in October that I actually saw the city for what it was. And in the coming months my attachment to it would grow more and more, with a little help from my friends.
I always found it ironic that the first time I fell in love with San Francisco was when I was trying to escape it. Maybe it wasn't even the city, maybe it was just the encompassing feeling I had of being like a rolling stone, out on my own, wandering the streets of this city I barely know with belongings in tow, and not knowing what to expect. I could've gone anywhere, or at least that was how I felt. I did after all have a very set destination [a $125 plane ticket destination], but I felt like I could go anywhere. And after that night, I was no longer afraid of the city. In the coming months I would make several more trips by myself, similar to this one, but never of the same grandeur. I'd make tons of trips to USF by myself, a half hour bus ride across town on one of the shadiest buses in all of San Francisco. Walking home from work by myself at 11 pm every Friday and Saturday. Those moments became so freeing. I never felt rushed or scared, I only ever felt relaxed and content. I have a feeling I will wander back there someday.
"It's too gray,
I'm too cold--
I wanta go Golden,
That's my home."
Thanks, Jack.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
My Evaluation of The Beatles
Everyone has their favorite Beatle, this is known. Most people go for either John Lennon or Paul McCartney, because they are the most well-known and wrote the majority of The Beatles' songs. John is usually more favorable than Paul, however, because he is in fact dead, and died in a very untimely fashion. Paul is normally a favorite of those who either A) hate Yoko Ono, or B) enjoy Wings. George Harrison has been gaining more popularity lately, however, because he is in fact "the quiet one", and therefore adds a very unique twist when you say he's your favorite. He did write some great stuff of course, but most of the time, the only reason people say that George is their favorite is because it's all too trendy to say John, and all too embarrassing to say Paul. Ringo Starr never gets any love, that is always how it goes. While all the other Beatles got unique recognitions [Paul was "the cute one", John "the smart one", George "the quiet one"], Ringo was only known as "the drummer." For some reason people have gathered this image that he is an untalented and worthless musician who could have been replaced by anyone. For the most part, the people who DO like Ringo, mainly just feel sorry for him. Or are drummers.
I don't have a favorite Beatle. I can't decide. George was my favorite when my obsession started, mainly because I really liked the songs "Blue Jay Way" and "Here Comes The Sun." Also, the one friend that I had who was equally obsessed with them [even more so than me], her favorite was George. But then I got a hold of John Lennon's Plastic Ono Band album, and "Working Class Hero" immediately converted me. "Jealous Guy" also became a favorite, and at the time seemed to dictate my life. Around that time I fell in love, however, and soon John was too cynical and edgy for what I was feeling. Paul became a little more popular, with his always rhyming and always impish sounds. I saw him in concert, too, which pushed him even further to the top. Unfortunately, I still thought Ringo was worthless, as most Beatles fans do, and did not give him any credit. "Octopus's Garden" was ALWAYS skipped over whenever I listened to Abbey Road. I just didn't get it, I didn't appreciate it for being silly. I thought it ruined the whole motif that The Beatles were going for, as well-accomplished and serious musicians. I didn't realize until later that The Beatles were trying to reach ALL levels, not just the intellectual serious ones. Songs like "Your Mother Should Know" and "Baby, You're A Rich Man" contribute to that theory, and both of those were Lennon/McCartney gems.
Then my heart broke, and I was back on the John Lennon. There was some George Harrison mixed in; songs like "All Things Must Pass" and "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" were great get-the-fuck-over-this songs. Paul McCartney's Chaos and Creation in the Backyard album also extended some valuable advice and helped make light of the situation with its child-like melodies. I still did not care for Ringo, though the song "Act Naturally" suddenly became a favorite. Still not written by him, but sung very nicely. At least he could carry a tune.
Here's how I see it:
John Lennon is the one for the radicals. He's the revolutionary one, the one preaching for peace, and unafraid of crossing lines. But he does it in a very stylistic way, a very organized and polite way. He didn't light things on fire or make obscene gestures. He encouraged revolution, but at the same time he talked about it in a way of complete class. The song "Revolution" isn't about rebellion, it's about common sense. It's about displaying your opinions in a way that makes sense and isn't just for the sake of "fighting the man." "But when you talk about destruction/Don't you know that you can count me out/Don't you know it's gonna be alright." That's not the voice of an angry man or even a rebellious man, but of a man who was willing to work for change. He didn't care how long it was going to take, as long as it was in a peaceful manner. That's dedication and respect right there.
Paul McCartney appeals to...well, just about everybody. People who appreciate good music, I suppose. He's respectable and he's talented, but I think the one thing he is missing is a cause. I know he's a strict vegetarian and fights for animal rights all the time, but he's mainly known for his feel good ballads. I think people who are fans of Michael Bolton and Lionel Richie can appreciate him more in his entirety than other people. He's had a lot of throwaway hits like "Let 'Em In", "No More Lonely Nights", and "My Love." Janis Joplin once described her sound as the bottom layer of rock and roll. She said there is a surface layer and that is where most people are, and then there are the bottom layers, and that's where she said she was. I think Paul is an outer layer musician. The edgiest he ever got was with "Helter Skelter", whereas John was ALWAYS rattling our minds with "Yer Blues" or again, "Revolution." Paul's for the people who like to feel, like to dance, and like to sing...and probably aren't too good at the latter two. But I'll tell you, there is not a single person on this Earth, musician or not, who can whole-heartedly hate the song "Yesterday." No matter how hard you might try, you will always find something that you like about that song.
George Harrison is for those who when they listen to music, they like to stare off into space and lose themselves for 4 minutes or so. I don't care who you are, "Within You Without You" will ALWAYS put you in a trance if you listen to it for more than a minute. It doesn't even matter what part of the song. You could catch it 3 minutes in, and still be compelled to sit down and think about the state of the world. Although always known as the lanky one with the guitar, he did yield some great hits, that I feel are under appreciated. "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" wasn't even taken seriously by John and Paul until George brought Eric Clapton in to record lead guitar. He wasn't necessarily a radical, but he was a peacemaker of sorts, and I really feel like he took advantage of his musical skills in all the right ways to try and get a point across. The Concert for Bangladesh was the first ever benefit concert, and that launched a whole new perspective on rock and roll and its meaning. It'd always been about sex and rebellion, but then it became more about meaningful lyrics and mantra-like melodies. I think George is for the people who have more worldly opinions.
And then there is Ringo Starr. Somehow in the course of 45 years or so, Ringo has gotten the reputation of the "less important" Beatle. Though there may be some truth to that, it still does not mean he is a terrible nor untalented musician. Yes, if you were to put "Yesterday", "Revolution", "Something", and "Octopus's Garden" all together, of course "Octopus's Garden" is going to be the inferior one, but that does not mean he's completely awful. It just means "Yesterday", "Revolution", and "Something" are INCREDIBLY AMAZING and INCOMPARABLE. You put ANY song next to those ones, and it doesn't matter how good it is, it will ALWAYS be inferior. Somehow a rumor of sorts got started, too, that Ringo is a bad drummer, but it is a fact that great drummers such as Dave Grohl and Phil Collins hail Ringo as being a revolutionary and phenomenal addition to music history. I see Ringo as the balance in The Beatles. He was very good at keeping time and putting in the right accents without taking away from the actual piece. And with The Beatles, if you had too much good stuff going at one time, it would ruin the entire song. George Harrison was a crappy guitarist, but it didn't matter because he was able to carry a tune, keep with the beat, and give what was needed. Ringo did the same. He let the lyrics and the melody do their thing and carry the piece. The Beatles didn't need an elaborate drummer, and that's a fact. If Ringo was such a horrible drummer, The Beatles would NEVER have made it as far at they did. People never seem to take that into consideration. Ringo is for the people who can appreciate The Beatles as a whole, and not just as individuals.
The magic of The Beatles was their balance, and the reason they split was because that balance was disrupted. John became too deep for them, Paul's ego grew too large, and George and Ringo became suffocated by John and Paul's overwhelming popularity. I can't choose a favorite because they are all irreplaceable. None of them could have survived without the other. What if it had just been John, Paul, and George, hmm? What then? Or just George, Paul, and Ringo? The combinations are endless, and also useless. It's a fact that each were able to contribute something on their own that made The Beatles what they were and how they are viewed today. John's attitude gave them their edge, Paul's smile gave them their appeal, George's subtleties gave them their meaning, and Ringo's beat pulled them all together. I'm sorry, but The Beatles are The Beatles, and cannot be separated.
When someone asks me who my favorite Beatle is, I always say, "Eric Clapton."
I don't have a favorite Beatle. I can't decide. George was my favorite when my obsession started, mainly because I really liked the songs "Blue Jay Way" and "Here Comes The Sun." Also, the one friend that I had who was equally obsessed with them [even more so than me], her favorite was George. But then I got a hold of John Lennon's Plastic Ono Band album, and "Working Class Hero" immediately converted me. "Jealous Guy" also became a favorite, and at the time seemed to dictate my life. Around that time I fell in love, however, and soon John was too cynical and edgy for what I was feeling. Paul became a little more popular, with his always rhyming and always impish sounds. I saw him in concert, too, which pushed him even further to the top. Unfortunately, I still thought Ringo was worthless, as most Beatles fans do, and did not give him any credit. "Octopus's Garden" was ALWAYS skipped over whenever I listened to Abbey Road. I just didn't get it, I didn't appreciate it for being silly. I thought it ruined the whole motif that The Beatles were going for, as well-accomplished and serious musicians. I didn't realize until later that The Beatles were trying to reach ALL levels, not just the intellectual serious ones. Songs like "Your Mother Should Know" and "Baby, You're A Rich Man" contribute to that theory, and both of those were Lennon/McCartney gems.
Then my heart broke, and I was back on the John Lennon. There was some George Harrison mixed in; songs like "All Things Must Pass" and "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" were great get-the-fuck-over-this songs. Paul McCartney's Chaos and Creation in the Backyard album also extended some valuable advice and helped make light of the situation with its child-like melodies. I still did not care for Ringo, though the song "Act Naturally" suddenly became a favorite. Still not written by him, but sung very nicely. At least he could carry a tune.
Here's how I see it:
John Lennon is the one for the radicals. He's the revolutionary one, the one preaching for peace, and unafraid of crossing lines. But he does it in a very stylistic way, a very organized and polite way. He didn't light things on fire or make obscene gestures. He encouraged revolution, but at the same time he talked about it in a way of complete class. The song "Revolution" isn't about rebellion, it's about common sense. It's about displaying your opinions in a way that makes sense and isn't just for the sake of "fighting the man." "But when you talk about destruction/Don't you know that you can count me out/Don't you know it's gonna be alright." That's not the voice of an angry man or even a rebellious man, but of a man who was willing to work for change. He didn't care how long it was going to take, as long as it was in a peaceful manner. That's dedication and respect right there.
Paul McCartney appeals to...well, just about everybody. People who appreciate good music, I suppose. He's respectable and he's talented, but I think the one thing he is missing is a cause. I know he's a strict vegetarian and fights for animal rights all the time, but he's mainly known for his feel good ballads. I think people who are fans of Michael Bolton and Lionel Richie can appreciate him more in his entirety than other people. He's had a lot of throwaway hits like "Let 'Em In", "No More Lonely Nights", and "My Love." Janis Joplin once described her sound as the bottom layer of rock and roll. She said there is a surface layer and that is where most people are, and then there are the bottom layers, and that's where she said she was. I think Paul is an outer layer musician. The edgiest he ever got was with "Helter Skelter", whereas John was ALWAYS rattling our minds with "Yer Blues" or again, "Revolution." Paul's for the people who like to feel, like to dance, and like to sing...and probably aren't too good at the latter two. But I'll tell you, there is not a single person on this Earth, musician or not, who can whole-heartedly hate the song "Yesterday." No matter how hard you might try, you will always find something that you like about that song.
George Harrison is for those who when they listen to music, they like to stare off into space and lose themselves for 4 minutes or so. I don't care who you are, "Within You Without You" will ALWAYS put you in a trance if you listen to it for more than a minute. It doesn't even matter what part of the song. You could catch it 3 minutes in, and still be compelled to sit down and think about the state of the world. Although always known as the lanky one with the guitar, he did yield some great hits, that I feel are under appreciated. "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" wasn't even taken seriously by John and Paul until George brought Eric Clapton in to record lead guitar. He wasn't necessarily a radical, but he was a peacemaker of sorts, and I really feel like he took advantage of his musical skills in all the right ways to try and get a point across. The Concert for Bangladesh was the first ever benefit concert, and that launched a whole new perspective on rock and roll and its meaning. It'd always been about sex and rebellion, but then it became more about meaningful lyrics and mantra-like melodies. I think George is for the people who have more worldly opinions.
And then there is Ringo Starr. Somehow in the course of 45 years or so, Ringo has gotten the reputation of the "less important" Beatle. Though there may be some truth to that, it still does not mean he is a terrible nor untalented musician. Yes, if you were to put "Yesterday", "Revolution", "Something", and "Octopus's Garden" all together, of course "Octopus's Garden" is going to be the inferior one, but that does not mean he's completely awful. It just means "Yesterday", "Revolution", and "Something" are INCREDIBLY AMAZING and INCOMPARABLE. You put ANY song next to those ones, and it doesn't matter how good it is, it will ALWAYS be inferior. Somehow a rumor of sorts got started, too, that Ringo is a bad drummer, but it is a fact that great drummers such as Dave Grohl and Phil Collins hail Ringo as being a revolutionary and phenomenal addition to music history. I see Ringo as the balance in The Beatles. He was very good at keeping time and putting in the right accents without taking away from the actual piece. And with The Beatles, if you had too much good stuff going at one time, it would ruin the entire song. George Harrison was a crappy guitarist, but it didn't matter because he was able to carry a tune, keep with the beat, and give what was needed. Ringo did the same. He let the lyrics and the melody do their thing and carry the piece. The Beatles didn't need an elaborate drummer, and that's a fact. If Ringo was such a horrible drummer, The Beatles would NEVER have made it as far at they did. People never seem to take that into consideration. Ringo is for the people who can appreciate The Beatles as a whole, and not just as individuals.
The magic of The Beatles was their balance, and the reason they split was because that balance was disrupted. John became too deep for them, Paul's ego grew too large, and George and Ringo became suffocated by John and Paul's overwhelming popularity. I can't choose a favorite because they are all irreplaceable. None of them could have survived without the other. What if it had just been John, Paul, and George, hmm? What then? Or just George, Paul, and Ringo? The combinations are endless, and also useless. It's a fact that each were able to contribute something on their own that made The Beatles what they were and how they are viewed today. John's attitude gave them their edge, Paul's smile gave them their appeal, George's subtleties gave them their meaning, and Ringo's beat pulled them all together. I'm sorry, but The Beatles are The Beatles, and cannot be separated.
When someone asks me who my favorite Beatle is, I always say, "Eric Clapton."
Sunday, May 18, 2008
i'm surprised i haven't killed someone yet.
i've kind of stopped listening to the world. there's too much happening for me to comprehend, so i just stopped listening. or maybe i'm still listening, but it's more like selective hearing. i'm really numb. i don't think there is anything that anyone could say right now that would shock me the least bit; i feel like i've heard it all. i realize things can always be much worse, much much worse, that is always in the back of my mind, and i think at this point it's the only thing saving me from a mental breakdown. starving orphan children in africa are keeping me from losing my mind, but at the same time put more weight on my heart. my heart is always heavy with something, anything. if it's not one thing, it's the other. my life was finally sorting itself out, and then all of a sudden these walls showed up, these separate walls of all different heights, they just stuck themselves in my path, and now i have to fucking climb over them, and i keep going, i always keep going, because if i stop, i WILL lose my mind, and it will not be pretty. being awake has just started to really wear me out. it seems like the world is moving so much faster now more than ever.
there are those slow moments, however, like when you finally realize that the person you were so enamoured with 3 years ago doesn't want anything to do with you anymore, and honestly wouldn't care if you stepped in front of a bus. those moments last forever. and ever. and always occur at odd times. like 8:13 am on a wednesday, or 2:08 am on a sunday. or when you realize that the aforementioned person basically derailed your life for 3 years and you still don't feel whole because they took the other half of you with them when they left. those moments where you wish you hadn't met them; those moments where you wish they didn't exist.
but then there are those thoughts that come to you at 2:12 am on a sunday, where you realize what you've learned and where you're going, and all of a sudden, it really doesn't matter what you've been through or who it was that you went through it with. none of that is important.
i've got a lot of great people in my life right now who really do love me. some have only been around for a couple months, some for years, but in any case they're here, and really really would care if i stepped in front of a bus.
"though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious." thanks, jack.
i'm gonna go back to reading big sur. i think it's time i picked it up again.
there are those slow moments, however, like when you finally realize that the person you were so enamoured with 3 years ago doesn't want anything to do with you anymore, and honestly wouldn't care if you stepped in front of a bus. those moments last forever. and ever. and always occur at odd times. like 8:13 am on a wednesday, or 2:08 am on a sunday. or when you realize that the aforementioned person basically derailed your life for 3 years and you still don't feel whole because they took the other half of you with them when they left. those moments where you wish you hadn't met them; those moments where you wish they didn't exist.
but then there are those thoughts that come to you at 2:12 am on a sunday, where you realize what you've learned and where you're going, and all of a sudden, it really doesn't matter what you've been through or who it was that you went through it with. none of that is important.
i've got a lot of great people in my life right now who really do love me. some have only been around for a couple months, some for years, but in any case they're here, and really really would care if i stepped in front of a bus.
"though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious." thanks, jack.
i'm gonna go back to reading big sur. i think it's time i picked it up again.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Away.
again, 20 to 4 and no hopes of retreat, though my eyes are puffy with longing and lose their burn when closed. but my fingers won't stop moving, typing, strumming, and i can't stop breathing and humming. i squint--but not hard enough to see past all of this haze. my vision is clouded and so is my mind. my stomach will not stop twisting itself, and nausea has actually started to sink in. nauseous; nauseous with hurt, with reluctance, with bitterness and remorse. i broke him down because i knew i could, i knew i could make him see my way, to pull himself together and be there for me, even if he really didn't want to be. i wanted to make him be there and see and feel all of my hurt. crying through text, draping each word with a tear, making sure i struck a chord. and he turned around. he actually showed concern. he asked what was needed and i told him. and then through tired and depressed thought, he muttered, "don't." don't. like it's that easy. then with a final wave of hopeful and forced concern he said:
"Let's go, Tom Wingfield."
only he would make that connection. only he would save me with that phrase. and for a minute, it made me laugh. but the laugh quietly turned to guilt as i reflect upon the night with heavy eyes and a heavy heart. why do i keep doing this to him? why do i drag him back in? but namely...why do i always have to drag him back in?
i'm waiting for the day he walks in by himself, and my hands are at my side and not clenching his shirt collar.
"Let's go, Tom Wingfield."
only he would make that connection. only he would save me with that phrase. and for a minute, it made me laugh. but the laugh quietly turned to guilt as i reflect upon the night with heavy eyes and a heavy heart. why do i keep doing this to him? why do i drag him back in? but namely...why do i always have to drag him back in?
i'm waiting for the day he walks in by himself, and my hands are at my side and not clenching his shirt collar.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Life On Mars?
You can't hear anything in outer space. Nothing. Sound gets lost.
I think I had a dream about this. Or maybe it was just part of a weird thought pattern. But in any case, I thought about this at some point last week. I thought about how if I was in outer space, by myself, how silent it would be. I would only be able to hear my breathing. Just my breath.
There are times where I feel really alone. Like, I feel very small compared with the rest of the world, compared to the things around me. And I feel distanced from everything, from all of it, even when there is someone sitting right next to me, talking to me even, I still can feel very alone. And then there are times where I daydream about outer space and its emptiness. There are times where all I want is pure and absolute silence. Where I don't want to hear anything, not even the wind.
When I saw Children of a Lesser God at the Rubicon, there was this part where the main teacher guy plugs his ears and tried to understand how this deaf woman feels, to hear (or I guess NOT hear) what she hears (or DOESN'T hear). She made some comment about how he will never truly understand. I plugged my ears and tried it. I have of course plugged my ears before, but I never really paid attention to the sensation it transmits. You can still hear. Its muffled, but you can still hear. Sound waves are still being transmitted, and you can still feel it. No hearing person can ever understand absolute silence.
When I realized that, it really depressed me for a little bit. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I want to be deaf or anything, I just for once would like to feel the idea of absolute silence. To be able to melt into my own mind without any auditory distractions. That's why outer space is so attractive to me. I know it sounds loony, I know that, but I mean, think about it. Think about if the only sound you could hear was yourself breathing in and out. Think about pure blackness except for the freckly stars. Think about floating weightless, not knowing if you're up or down, and realizing it doesn't matter because gravity doesn't exist. Think about absolute freedom.
I don't know if there's anything in this world that I want more.
I think I had a dream about this. Or maybe it was just part of a weird thought pattern. But in any case, I thought about this at some point last week. I thought about how if I was in outer space, by myself, how silent it would be. I would only be able to hear my breathing. Just my breath.
There are times where I feel really alone. Like, I feel very small compared with the rest of the world, compared to the things around me. And I feel distanced from everything, from all of it, even when there is someone sitting right next to me, talking to me even, I still can feel very alone. And then there are times where I daydream about outer space and its emptiness. There are times where all I want is pure and absolute silence. Where I don't want to hear anything, not even the wind.
When I saw Children of a Lesser God at the Rubicon, there was this part where the main teacher guy plugs his ears and tried to understand how this deaf woman feels, to hear (or I guess NOT hear) what she hears (or DOESN'T hear). She made some comment about how he will never truly understand. I plugged my ears and tried it. I have of course plugged my ears before, but I never really paid attention to the sensation it transmits. You can still hear. Its muffled, but you can still hear. Sound waves are still being transmitted, and you can still feel it. No hearing person can ever understand absolute silence.
When I realized that, it really depressed me for a little bit. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I want to be deaf or anything, I just for once would like to feel the idea of absolute silence. To be able to melt into my own mind without any auditory distractions. That's why outer space is so attractive to me. I know it sounds loony, I know that, but I mean, think about it. Think about if the only sound you could hear was yourself breathing in and out. Think about pure blackness except for the freckly stars. Think about floating weightless, not knowing if you're up or down, and realizing it doesn't matter because gravity doesn't exist. Think about absolute freedom.
I don't know if there's anything in this world that I want more.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Kerouac Complex, yet again
you're trying too hard says that fucking voice inside your head, you know the one--that voice you get at 2 am on a wednesday night, the voice that knows you should be sleeping, but at the same time is making you stay up so you can at least try to write something comprehensible and memorable and glorious. glory-ory-ory is what you're searchin for, and what that goddam voice is yelling at you about, cuz you're trying too hard to quench it, to reach it, you want to grab hold of it and suffocate it like one of lenny's puppies. fuckin steinbeck, that genius of human nature. gotta wake up at 8, gotta wake up at 8, and it's already too late to get myself some rest, some good rest, some of the best rest. coffee made me sick today, among other things. my stomach seized itself as soon as the one sip went down, it was like the universe was trying to tell me something, like everything i highly enjoy and love was not going to go down smoothly much like this sweetened and delicious coffee, and boy was the universe right. it started with a sip and ended with a gulp, and now i am hopeless and helpless and tired with no means to an end, convincing myself it's done, it's over, when i know it will be back. back back back down that path, so familiar i could walk through with my eyes closed, and all other senses restrained. it's not that much to look at anyway. i crave a glass of wine [or maybe 3 or 4], a dreary night, and the faint whisper of mischief down the hall.
Friday, May 2, 2008
hallelujah
remember when we thought god was real
we thought our hearts were what he'd steal
we thought in time we'd know how to feel
we didn't know cohen's hallelujah
victory marches were what we knew
we thought there was nothing we couldn't do
we were invincible with every breath we drew
we'd never heard the word hallelujah
you held my wrist in your stable hand
until i screamed and cried and took a stand
but your fingerprints left a permanent brand
a symbol of our only hallelujah
we didn't walk by an old canal
we didn't stop in to a strange hotel
we always thought we were parallel
to our own faint hallelujah
that vacant lot on an autumn night
the last time i would ever see the light
you saw it, too, but in a different shade of white
spelling out a revealing hallelujah
i turned my back on god that day
when you blatantly told me you couldn't stay
i ran inside and threw away
every bit of any hallelujah
and now i'm hoping you'll change your mind
hoping the planets will somehow align
praying to a god for a simple sign
screaming and crying hallelujah
we thought our hearts were what he'd steal
we thought in time we'd know how to feel
we didn't know cohen's hallelujah
victory marches were what we knew
we thought there was nothing we couldn't do
we were invincible with every breath we drew
we'd never heard the word hallelujah
you held my wrist in your stable hand
until i screamed and cried and took a stand
but your fingerprints left a permanent brand
a symbol of our only hallelujah
we didn't walk by an old canal
we didn't stop in to a strange hotel
we always thought we were parallel
to our own faint hallelujah
that vacant lot on an autumn night
the last time i would ever see the light
you saw it, too, but in a different shade of white
spelling out a revealing hallelujah
i turned my back on god that day
when you blatantly told me you couldn't stay
i ran inside and threw away
every bit of any hallelujah
and now i'm hoping you'll change your mind
hoping the planets will somehow align
praying to a god for a simple sign
screaming and crying hallelujah
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