Thursday, October 29, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
the sky never brightens, but the sky never falls. it just hovers. it's not of this world, y'know? it's a container. it protects us from whatever the fuck it is that is 'out there'.
there is a god, i believe. and he's just grown bored with us. wouldn't you?
i am obsessed right now. with nothing in particular. just an abstract idea of something i thought might be love. but that is harder to believe in then god. i have no proof that god doesn't exist. but love? well. i'm an empirical kinda guy.
lou barlow is back. i'm listening to his new album while i ramble on. i believe music can save me. i can count on it. which is alot more than i can say for...for....ugh, i don't wanna keep doing this.
i'm not alone often. but when i am it's glorious! i am on my bed now, just listening and dreaming. it's heavenly. i recently read a book by chuck klosterman. there is a line in it that says something like, 'i don't see the difference between romance and solitude'. that really struck me. cuz i've always thought i was a romantic. but i think i might just be a misery junkie. and, y'know, junkies seek out other junkies.
but that line got me thinking. i only feel truly peaceful when i'm alone with my music. and if i have to be brutally honest, it may be the only time i feel true happiness. without any underlying neurosis. just purely, honestly happy.
i spent the last year with someone i really adored. just an amazing, but incredibly complicated woman. and i never really relaxed with her, y'know? cuz i knew it was temporary and i wasn't the person she really wanted to be with. and that's ok. you can't help how you feel. but i had moments of incredible excitement with her, and i love her dearly. BUT, i had a moment at work the other day. i was cooking some bullshit that comes out of a plastic bag. 'crimson and clover' came on. tommy james version. which is one of my favorite song. i went to the bathroom so i could just listen to it. and for 2 minutes i was gone. i strummed along on my imaginary gibson. i'm sure i was smiling. it was just perfect. and i felt so fucking happy. happier than any person has ever made me. i don't mean that as a dig. it's just the only thing that works. am i sick? or is this ok? romance and solitude, y'know. i felt less alone in that bathroom than i've felt in years.
so yeah, this barlow album is really good. i mean it's no 'sebadoh 3' and theres no 'truly great thing' ( which,for you couples in love, (sorry about that, i weep for your future) is one of the most beautiful love songs ever written (psssssst...it won't last...)) but it's really solid. you should buy it. it's better than coldplay or whatever the fuck you idiots listen to.
Posted by the feeb at 7:47 PM
Thursday, October 8, 2009
sometimes it's ok. strings reverberate. the trees sway in perfect rhythm with my heart.
this is a slightly sad feeling, but i feel comfortable here. it's close to home. these swaying trees, these whining strings, this unnamed sadness.
then things explode.
my eyes pop, and my pulse quickens.
i can control this. i am master of my emotions.
for a time i am home again.
i am a traveler. i have my backpack ready. today is portland. tomorow may be louisville, or big sur, or toronto, or philidelphia, or raleigh.
the hub will be chicago.
my eyes will explode along the way, i'm sure. it is a constant battle.
but it will ease as i get farther away. like descending from a mountain.
and the farther i get away from home,
the closer i will be to it.
Posted by the feeb at 8:58 AM
Saturday, October 3, 2009
(in my best david byrne preacher voice) behold the son of daniel! his heavenly children! some worship beauty, not understanding it's meaning. beauty is the reminder of death! time belongs to the devil. we are consumed with time. we watch the clock, we wait for something to happen. we watch beauty age and fade and turn into something unspeakably ugly. devil out!! the son of daniel holds you in his hands. even you! you junkies and flunkies! you salivators over dead squirrels bloated sun baked corpses! you one-eyed visionaries! you eaters of lilacs! you perusers of holy books! you simple, simple creatures. these books are from the devil. no truth is written. truth is observed, heard, for a moment, then drifts, scent like, into the vents. and you remember the smell, faintly, it lingers on your clothes, like the cigs you smoke. one...after...another.
repent. please, children, repent. kneel before danielson. than stand beside them. for they are not religion. they are love. and there is an ocean of tears between these things.
Posted by the feeb at 6:59 PM