introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Come June 02:51:16 - 2001-02-27 yeah, alright...so i've had some writer's block lately with so much going on from exams to near misses; from philosophy overload to questioning my ethics; from not wanting to get out of bed to insomnia. but, adam duritz was just playing some on best of vh1's storytellers and then, i heard some david bowie and i got to thinking that christ, i've had all of these emotions in me and haven't been using my most valuable tool: my pen. i haven't really written anything of any great enlightenment yet...nothing really worth sharing...but i do wanna give some freestyle attention to the page...so...for those of you who visit my lonely (non)space...here's something to keep you from starving....to justify my wishing away a perfectly good allergy season. Come June there is billie holiday, there's a little bit of miles davis, and there's adam and david... and there's a jill sobule concert that kept me on the edge of my seat, smiling and melting into her tricky twists of words and chords... and its all got me thinking, its all got me turned up and turned out... its got me rolling like a mile high thundercloud blowing in warm front jet stream breezes.... pondering, playing with words that you've said, and therefore, words that you've implied... making rhymes out of the very things that you don't say when you say something... the implication of more, the "you understood", the general unspoken understanding... yeah, there's wittegenstein and russel, there's mill an there's ayer... pompous men who think too much: great deep brains who somehow know how to dwell on more important things than seasonal depression, agoraphobia, empty refrigerators and pantries, heat bills and bicycle shops. They're contradicting the very things i love the most, they're contradicing my love for the smoothness of words, the delicacy of a well thought out phrase, the fragility of the meaning and encouraging me to remain silent... but really, now.... how can i keep so silent when you make me want to talk and talk and talk... so what if it's all nonsense?! It's all i can do to keep quiet when i get to thinking of you... so hard to keep quiet when you yank and tug at me and those things that must be heartstrings: those tight taught threads that stretch all elastic when i can't talk at you.... I suppose I could sigh and point and you'd understand but- until I can see you smell you taste you touch you... words are all I've got and i enjoy playing with them as much as i enjoy unseasonably warm days, clear sky sundays... as much as i love the feel of the sun on my skin, the feel of the wind that promises me spring is on its way blowing through the hair thats been growing back on my head for months now while i stand at the very highest point of the parking garage, my arms outstretched and mocking leonardo dicaprio, that conceited cocaine bastard. and so you're not brad pitt and you haven't got arms like lenny kravitz... but you've got something in a heart shaped velvet box, something i tied up in ribbons and wire and layed in a bed of satin; something that came with more than a few flaws, but its yours... you've got my heart. and we've got words, for now... and words are just fine... and as nonsensical as they may be, i can feel you right next to me across the hundreds of miles of crystalline webwire... i'm sending you hugs and fingers through that hair of yours, kisses on your fingertips, and the comfort of spooning with you til you fall asleep.... until the wind keeps its promise, til the leaves come back and clothe the trees' nudity... til the day for daffodils passes and moves over for the days for puddle jumping.. and come june, we'll see touch smell together in forgein familiar lands... and we've got words to ponder for now, tents and teas, stone circles and amsterdam... you give meaning to the world, give meaning to the words... and i'll keep playing billie holiday and miles davis, i'll keep smiling at the implications of pins and feathers and adam duritz, the china dolls of david bowie, and jill's stone sold picnic. come june, there'll be no need for words, til june... you give every single word more meaning. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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