It was now I should've gotten it, seeping through the cracks of my mind hitting me where it pleasures me most. An awakening, been preparing for this forever. My eyes are numb and my mind is sore, the tiredness of the situation and these old dreams we don't wear anymore with their lipstick on the wrong way, smudged this life is as we try to fathom it, try to take it all in before we make a decision. Emily Dickinson's fog was rising and we're here now, we're looking at these strange faces made of clay and we're still here, dead to the world but breathing.
They won't look twice at us, they won't send in the military to stomp down our procession, they won't look at us twice as we jump quickly through the shadows, passing on life as it passes us by, the way we won't remember it, busy and hectic, filled with the seriousness of the situation, what got us here, to this place where we were dreamt, when the mouths of the world are open, when the volcanoes will no longer burst and the old gods still lingering under the iceberg will not come to our aid for this is where we are truly alone, this is the only path where you are alone
It is a golden road to Xanadu and Samarkand we have tread upon, leaving small tokens of humanity as we pass the crossroads and intersections and we aren't walking on the road of life, we aren't experiencing the spheres or indiras net, we're just observing as the planes land and we eat microwaved breakfasts in airport cafeterias
There are no wrong calculations, there are no wrong ideas to deflect upon, there is no truth left anywhere for it's all softened down to perspectives and the multi facetted life of the midwife hangs over us like doom, for the one who delivers us, how can we expect to lie to her, how can we expect to go further and dream of other things when we can stop thinking of her, our midwife, hanging on to us, seeing through our eyes, souls and mirrors, watching us seize up and die
They're hanging on to us, like we hung onto them, they are needy as we were needy once before but where we think we have learned, they have learned, they have understood and seen and are still, watching like hawks, the junkies and the time travellers drink in the same pub and that was where we first stumbled upon an answer, so young and so frail and so right but so scared
Our fingers are the devil, our fingers are demon, the host itself watches over the seven thrones and looks glaringly at us from a distance. We lost the first try, we lost that important dice roll and the gods were all looking away when he threw it on the ground, hurled it like a spear and it shattered the world
it shattered the golden road we'd walked upon for so long and we saw the cracks and underneath the layers of gold we found the hardest whitest porcelain and as we touched it something touched us and we were left again to our own devices, to our own designs
We were at a crossroads, still watching and every road that led from the crossroads were broad and paved with gold and we walked those roads still with the fond memory of the porcelain underneath, our steps were different now, sometimes lighter, sometimes harder, bordering on trampling and we marched sometimes when someone sang that song, that old lonely song
That old ballad
I liked this piece. I can't put my finger on it, but it evokes a really particular memory for me.
It was halloween. I was at my old college with my girlfriend (who goes there) and her friend Kevin. they're not the party-hopping type, but I really wanted to go be in the middle of a crowd of electric people. I kept suggesting that we just wander into parties and see what happens.
"Nah, I won't know anyone there, it'll be weird, you know."
So I eventually pushed them into following me into this really packed party. It was packed shoulder to shoulder and everyone was grooving to this really muddy bass. We wandered as deep as we could into the crowd and just started freaking out - screaming, high fiving people, carrying on... When we finally left the eye of the hurricaine, Kevin was like, "Woah, I've never done anything like that before."
and I was like yeah, and the thing is - all these people are too drunk to remember any of this. Nobody's going to remember the little scene we just had. When they reflect back on this night, they'll just have this sort of vague impression of it. They'll remember little snippets and moments with their friends, but we're outside of it. We're not characters in this story. Nobody will remember us, we're not even memories, we're shadows. We can do anything we want right now. We're totally free.
Kevin had this look of total epiphany on his face
That was very nice. It feels familiar.