the transsiberian: August 2011

Monday, August 29, 2011

diorama

*the guitar riffs kick in!*

Hamilton Leithauser: Come for me, comfort me. Come for me, comfort me. Come for me, comfort me.

You see in these parallel universes I'm just a portion of a larger diorama. Only this version of me is feeling lonely. Somewhere else I'm happier, more hopeful and more in love.

While it's raining: It's past midnight but why is everything so bright? *comeformecomfortmecomeformecoverme*

I've forgotten how good this feels. Its been awhile since this feeling hasn't depended on someone else. *andaftersometimeiknowiwouldgoblind*

This is my zen moment. The point between swooning and cynicism. Ah won't you come for me, comfort me.

Monday, August 22, 2011

In these drawers are the compartments of myself I keep hidden. Sealed in envelopes, wrapped up in boxes, buried in thoughts. These are extensions of me, they further my understanding of who I am. I keep these because the past is important, the past is pertinent and the past affects my understanding of things present and things yet to come. The connection is no longer there however. The lines I am reading trigger brief physiological responses from time to time: a skipped heartbeat, labored breaths, a convection of sorts, a transfer of the ink on the page onto my skin. I rub it and it smudges. Just like all this compressed time has smudged. Archived and safe but no longer accurate. I cannot remember anymore. I rub the ink on my skin again and again until it almost disappears.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

in dreams / in heads / in beds

Dreams are structures just like buildings. You start from the bottom and slowly build upwards from the ground. If the foundations you build aren't strong enough then you won’t go very far up before parts start falling off. In the same way, if your ambition gets the better of you then you may be prone to irrationality and design elaborate and ambitious plans for your building. Again, it may all come tumbling down because you were too quick to make it perfect before you made it stable enough. The blueprints of how things should be are still in your head even as the building doesn’t quite look the way you imagined it to be. If everything comes crumbling down then you only have poor planning to blame. The architect in your mind is disheartened and confused for none of this was meant to happen. As long as you have the plans though you can still start all over again. The air is cool and light on my skin, the sun hasn’t yet come up fully and there’s a serenity to the proceedings. I need to dispose of these maps and diagrams in my head which attempt to tell me how things should be like and refocus instead on the basic and the simple. If I've realized one thing, it’s that dreams never die or disappear. In dreams everything is exactly the way it should be, intangibly permanent. It is when dreams stop being dreams, the moment they attempt the transition to reality, that they become fallible and cracks appear everywhere.

I thought I understood it. But I only grasped the vagueness of it. Only the smudgeness of it.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

abel

Well,

My mind's not right

My mind's gone loose inside its shell

Tie me down in a chair, fuck me and make me a drink.