"Soundtrack to a Lost Film" Part 4[end]
Title: "Soundtrack to a Lost Film"
Pairing: Tablo/Hyukjae
Author: ElmersGlue128
Part: four (out of four)
Genre: angst, romance
Rating: PG-13
Words: 836
Dedicated: to todefinebeauty. Wish I could give you more...Happy belated Birthday, Kai! *hugs*
Summary: This is the soundtrack to Tablo and Hyukjae's story, the happiness and the heartbreak. Press play and listen to Tablo share it with you. There is no girlfriend in this.
Comments: Based off the CD with the same title by Eternal Morning (Tablo and Pe2ny), I used the song titles as inspiration to write something on-going and connected in 4 parts.
P.S. References: Tablo had a close friend who passed away and he credits that friend for him continuing to persue his passion as a way to make both their dreams become a reality, "Pencil Sharpener" - Epik High (quoted near the end)
10. City that Never Sleeps
Barrenness, stripped away and the masquerade ends with the last drunk and the boy who can’t seem to get out of the funk of adolescent angst stumbling away to a gray sort of fade. I close my eyes and listen to the silence until an unsettling thought occurs. The city is alive.
It’s exhaling into the night with a gaspy, ghostly sound that’s a deathly chill but not more than the lone man on the street corner falling apart, his back so small and trembles to the beat of his downfall like the cold’s seeped a stain into him and like a cancer, it eats him up.
I stumble backwards, discombobulated into geometric squares and triangles and circles that are cumbersome as I move, a straight line away from the window to hide under the covers and your warm limbs that are entangled in the sheets. Like a graph, we’re drawn on part by part until I’m free from burdened weight and stupid technicality. It’s mathematical nonsense the way we fit together, so illogical the way it couldn’t be more true.
Turn the page, rip it off and toss it in the trash. Draw us together once more, gentle strokes and fervent kisses affectionately marking like the tip of a pencil to the soft hush of a gasp when we’re connected shapes again visible only to each other’s eyes and familiar calming touch.
Bang. The sound outside echoes through us and gun smoke burns our nostrils. The story stays with us.
11. Father’s Watch
Guilty articulation, a fatal realization amongst the faggots and filthy maggots, the dirty distain so cold it makes him shudder and his heart stutter to a stop with a gun in his pocket, a trigger just cock it for their kind doesn’t belong and with nowhere to go, the Devil has savaged their souls.
The sky is miraculous like a playful child’s messy fingers painting on a piece of plain white canvas across the horizon, the sun peaking out like a half-eaten cookie.
I take out a small box and slip out a silver watch belonging to a best friend, a forever young kid stolen away from everyone so his lone steps like pat-pats of rainfall could be heard up to the gates of Heavens shining iridescently against his hair like a halo glow. It’s silly but I can hear him requesting coolly before accepting cruel fate, watch over him for me, and Father Time keeps his word.
He reminds me of you, his bright-eyed determination and how knowing him has changed my life forever. He’s my protector and now I’m yours. Each tick like a trick of the eyes brings you closer to me.
I wear it on your wrist.
Clack-clack-clack, I type a few words on the typewriter to try it out and you’re hunched over my shoulder, playing with the watch.
Tick-tick-tick.
Clack.
Will
Clack.
You
Clack.
Marry
Clack.
Me?
You think I’m joking. It’s impossible, you say. I hate how much I agree. Still…
Tick-tick-tick.
12. Eternal Mourning
Don’t give a damn, let them rip and tear from limb to limb the lions and the lambs, a cold metal bullet piercing through human flesh is just a piercing scream heard within the walls of an empty mind so shut the blinds, the weight so heavy the limbs sink to the ground of a broken society, a long-lost propriety of so-called humanity.
The flowers wilt but you keep replacing them, your house slippers sliding against our hardwood floor as you move. Rushing water against your wrinkled hands and it’s icy cold before you fill up the crystal vase, fresh green stalks rejoicing in their bath and unopened buds smile adoringly up at you.
Dirty dishes are piled up too high, I grumble about it but really, it’s just an excuse to shuffle over by your side. Something so frivolous because I’m already always with you but I still find any little excuse just to be even closer.
You lean against me and stay motionless, like you’re perfectly content with standing like a useless wooden pole on the street and I’m just another pole a block away and the cable wires string you to me so together we light up the rest of the world. Bling-bling, baby, see how everyone else can’t keep their eyes off of us?
Grow old with me, I declare softly like the cheesy emotional romantic we both are and I can feel your whole chest vibrate with familiar laughter that's more familiar than my own. Somehow, you know I mean I love you more than anything and everything and the meaningless ring of conventional wedding bells tolling for contrived acceptance.
“Say it again, these are just cold handcuffs for my repentance, right? You’re like a bird with broken wings, reality binds you in shackles but one day, it will be your time to shine.”
Tick-tick-tick. To the very last seconds.
Regrets, you ask? I have none.
It’s you and me.
Pairing: Tablo/Hyukjae
Author: ElmersGlue128
Part: four (out of four)
Genre: angst, romance
Rating: PG-13
Words: 836
Dedicated: to todefinebeauty. Wish I could give you more...Happy belated Birthday, Kai! *hugs*
Summary: This is the soundtrack to Tablo and Hyukjae's story, the happiness and the heartbreak. Press play and listen to Tablo share it with you. There is no girlfriend in this.
Comments: Based off the CD with the same title by Eternal Morning (Tablo and Pe2ny), I used the song titles as inspiration to write something on-going and connected in 4 parts.
P.S. References: Tablo had a close friend who passed away and he credits that friend for him continuing to persue his passion as a way to make both their dreams become a reality, "Pencil Sharpener" - Epik High (quoted near the end)
10. City that Never Sleeps
Barrenness, stripped away and the masquerade ends with the last drunk and the boy who can’t seem to get out of the funk of adolescent angst stumbling away to a gray sort of fade. I close my eyes and listen to the silence until an unsettling thought occurs. The city is alive.
It’s exhaling into the night with a gaspy, ghostly sound that’s a deathly chill but not more than the lone man on the street corner falling apart, his back so small and trembles to the beat of his downfall like the cold’s seeped a stain into him and like a cancer, it eats him up.
I stumble backwards, discombobulated into geometric squares and triangles and circles that are cumbersome as I move, a straight line away from the window to hide under the covers and your warm limbs that are entangled in the sheets. Like a graph, we’re drawn on part by part until I’m free from burdened weight and stupid technicality. It’s mathematical nonsense the way we fit together, so illogical the way it couldn’t be more true.
Turn the page, rip it off and toss it in the trash. Draw us together once more, gentle strokes and fervent kisses affectionately marking like the tip of a pencil to the soft hush of a gasp when we’re connected shapes again visible only to each other’s eyes and familiar calming touch.
Bang. The sound outside echoes through us and gun smoke burns our nostrils. The story stays with us.
11. Father’s Watch
Guilty articulation, a fatal realization amongst the faggots and filthy maggots, the dirty distain so cold it makes him shudder and his heart stutter to a stop with a gun in his pocket, a trigger just cock it for their kind doesn’t belong and with nowhere to go, the Devil has savaged their souls.
The sky is miraculous like a playful child’s messy fingers painting on a piece of plain white canvas across the horizon, the sun peaking out like a half-eaten cookie.
I take out a small box and slip out a silver watch belonging to a best friend, a forever young kid stolen away from everyone so his lone steps like pat-pats of rainfall could be heard up to the gates of Heavens shining iridescently against his hair like a halo glow. It’s silly but I can hear him requesting coolly before accepting cruel fate, watch over him for me, and Father Time keeps his word.
He reminds me of you, his bright-eyed determination and how knowing him has changed my life forever. He’s my protector and now I’m yours. Each tick like a trick of the eyes brings you closer to me.
I wear it on your wrist.
Clack-clack-clack, I type a few words on the typewriter to try it out and you’re hunched over my shoulder, playing with the watch.
Tick-tick-tick.
Clack.
Will
Clack.
You
Clack.
Marry
Clack.
Me?
You think I’m joking. It’s impossible, you say. I hate how much I agree. Still…
Tick-tick-tick.
12. Eternal Mourning
Don’t give a damn, let them rip and tear from limb to limb the lions and the lambs, a cold metal bullet piercing through human flesh is just a piercing scream heard within the walls of an empty mind so shut the blinds, the weight so heavy the limbs sink to the ground of a broken society, a long-lost propriety of so-called humanity.
The flowers wilt but you keep replacing them, your house slippers sliding against our hardwood floor as you move. Rushing water against your wrinkled hands and it’s icy cold before you fill up the crystal vase, fresh green stalks rejoicing in their bath and unopened buds smile adoringly up at you.
Dirty dishes are piled up too high, I grumble about it but really, it’s just an excuse to shuffle over by your side. Something so frivolous because I’m already always with you but I still find any little excuse just to be even closer.
You lean against me and stay motionless, like you’re perfectly content with standing like a useless wooden pole on the street and I’m just another pole a block away and the cable wires string you to me so together we light up the rest of the world. Bling-bling, baby, see how everyone else can’t keep their eyes off of us?
Grow old with me, I declare softly like the cheesy emotional romantic we both are and I can feel your whole chest vibrate with familiar laughter that's more familiar than my own. Somehow, you know I mean I love you more than anything and everything and the meaningless ring of conventional wedding bells tolling for contrived acceptance.
“Say it again, these are just cold handcuffs for my repentance, right? You’re like a bird with broken wings, reality binds you in shackles but one day, it will be your time to shine.”
Tick-tick-tick. To the very last seconds.
Regrets, you ask? I have none.
It’s you and me.