now it's time for so long, but we'll sing just one more song..
THIS POST RUINED MY LIFE IM SORRY I MADE YOU ALL SAD I LOVE YOU
Ladies and gentlemen, my significant other is a man of inspiration.
all of this timing, my timing, is bad. i don’t know what else to do. i’m irritated, snappy, moody, bitter… and so i disconnect from everything and everyone until i work myself out.
tonight did help, though. it was really fun being with everyone and getting things done.
i just don’t feel good, so i’ll go to sleep. good-night, my dears.
i’m beneath an overpass, standing on hot tar with small airplanes all around me. i jump to the overpass and collect my cousin and my father, telling them of a time i went in one of these planes with him. i suddenly become very excited and drag my father and cousin down the stairs of the overpass to the runway, running towards a plane. it’s his plane, and i’m going to steal it for the day.
my cousin and father are in the plane, and i’m on the right side and have all of the controls (one joystick and a lever beneath my seat) to fly the aircraft. i push the throttle forward and burst into the air. i’m flying, just flying, into the late light of the day.
we glide over the rolling mountains, ancient and small, covered in tall oak trees and maple trees. there are houses nestled in between the trees, with winding roads and pockets of market stores. golden light like honey on milk shimmers across the plane. as i gain altitude i can feel the lifts and pulls of wind on the wings. i grin and tilt the plane this way and that, snaking around the waves and spirals of wind and air.
i pull up, nearly vertical, and look behind me. i see the trees and land stop at once, hitting a vast blue ocean. i want to fly to another checkpoint, across the ocean, but i know that i would need more fuel—plus the plane wasn’t mine. i picture doing an alley oop with the plane, but i decide not to. i just wanted to fly around, not kill anyone (funny, right?). instead i simply turn the aircraft around.
next i know there are rogue aircrafts that are coming after me. they have black bodies and black wings, and there are a few of them. quickly i dive down towards one of the crevices between two mountains, the wheels of the plane a few feet above the rooftops of houses, and i slip in between telephone wires to evade the black planes. i glance behind me and see that they’ve disappeared. i laugh and shout, and take the plane back up to find the way home.
i spot the mountains and head in that direction. my mind wanders around, my eyes skipping around the beaches and towns and homes below, admiring everything that i see. as we near the mountains, i look around for some indication of how to land. “shit,” i growl.
i’m tugging at the lever beneath my seat, but a sharp whistling noise pierces through the windshield of the plane. i look up and see that the hood of the plane has lifted, and the propeller is slowing. the plane angles downwards, decreasing in altitude.
“that just cools the plane!” my cousin states. i release the lever and the hood snaps back into place, the propeller spinning faster now. i pull the plane up and continue looking for ways to land. i notice there’s a button on top of the joystick. as we near the runway i press the button down and push the joystick forwards and down, slowing the aircraft.
“i got it!” i exclaim. my father and cousin sit back in their seats as we touch down to a swift, but smooth landing. i look ahead and see cars in front of me on the runway, driving along the plane but swerving in front and to the sides, braking, trying to get out of the way but not knowing how…
i’ve just found a camera that also shoots video.
SHIT’S GOIN DOWN.
my day was great. my hair is falling apart. i love my dog. now there’s something calling to me, very strongly, and i cannot resist your temptation… bed.
keep smiling. keep dreaming.
driving to smokey santa fe tomorrow.
it will be good to get away from all of this nonsense.
i feel myself becoming bitchy and mean and flippy-floppy.
you set those enchanting eyes upon me with the countless words they say, and there is nothing for me to do but stare and wonder just what it is that you’re feeling.
there’s that smile and laugh which are so contagious that they entice a beat in my heart; their warmth like a droplet of honey in the sunlight.
i lay beneath the covers, staring at my folded hand on the pillow, wanting nothing more than to show you how much i care, but too caught in the moment to escape.
i open my eyes and all i see is that speckled skin.
i become lost in you.
honks, horns, hound dog shakes, and hebrew decorate the smartly scrunched avenues. a glance over my shoulder to see the written signs, scratches and scriptures stroked on the rubbed brick buildings. every blink reveals a revelation of experience, a new colour added to the pinwheel of human expectation. a blissful blend of old and new flooding my senses near the point of overflow.
waking up with a tight throat. the morning’s songs emanate from the window, filtered water splashing and native birds rummaging through fresh leaves. a shower opens my lungs again.
i sit, resenting the laboured heaves of old age. there’s longing, and i need it. i need to get away from it.
grass green with moisture is a cushion to my aching toes. it’s comfort is almost too poisonous for my tongue, spoiled bitter. distance has shared its water with me. i keep drinking. i’m bloated. i keep drinking.
the distance pulls me away. it has built its shell around me, and i cherish it.
but i don’t want it. i want the closeness of the green grass.
when i discover an artist, a musician, i play whatever it is of theirs that i have over and over again. constantly. and momma’s always like, “could you give that song a rest?” but i’m just like, “wait, mom! i need to hear that bridge again!”
why do i do that? it’s because every time i listen to the piano taps, drum snaps and bass fwaps, i build my own story. sometimes it will come to me in drawings; colourful representations of whatever the song gives me. other times it will be imagining the recording artist in their studio, with every crescendo and decrescendo adding a little more shape and flush to the face behind the voice.
but that’s what i love about it. there’s that mystery, the face behind the voice, that is always present and always changing with each listen.
and that’s what i adore about you.
i’m weighed down.
this sinking feeling won’t leave me.
something terrible has taken hold.
for the first time, i don’t know what to do.
everything is blurry.
i don’t know what it takes to make it all clear.
it’s something that i don’t have now.
maybe some sleeping will help.