hmmffffgrrr
i want to roll my eyes, and growl, and cry. it's just one of those days. you know, where you're moody, and pouting. what has saved me? myself. my happiness comes from inside myself. my happiness comes from my hope. from animating my heart into my friend, the friend who's out searching for happiness while i sit in my body and wait for him to return.
i like the company of my cat too. she felt softer than ever.
i like the company of my friends. abby made me aware of something today, i asked her how she could possibly talk on the phone for an hour and a half, and she said, "how could the conversation stop?". we have our entire lives to talk about. we have two lives to talk about. the great thing is, we can even talk about our sleeping life, our unconscious. i could tell you about the time when i first listened to the beatles when i was 11, sitting on the bus next to my best friend holding my hello kitty cd player. i could tell you about earlier that day, sitting on this hilltop overlooking a valley eating a bagged lunch.
each thought leads to another. i could sit and remember everything, every thought. i want to take a day where i spend all 24 hours talking, without stopping to think, just talking complete train of thought. my train of thought never stops.
it's interesting how much of my life is fiction though. how many of my memories are places i've visited in books. how i've been taught to never believe in anything. i've learned through experience never to trust people. never to believe what you see on tv. i've been pretending to be in love, and pretending to believe my daydreams, because the only thing i've learned to believe is myself.
i had this dream last night that i went to sasquatch, and i watched fleet foxes play. i really think that band IS a musical version of my brain. my brain stew. i knew it the first moment i saw them with their beards and their instruments. i recognized the sound of myself. in the dream, they had these dancers all scattered on that big hill in big dresses. and choirs, everyone in the audience was among the choir. after that, the arcade fire played. the stage showed the most beautiful sunset, with mountains, like the one in the painting. then these huge flowers sprouted from the stage, and the band members clung onto them like jack and the beanstalk as they grew higher.
i keep sending these memos to my heart: don't forget to cut their hair short. tell them to be honest with themselves. have them visit my dreams. tell them to be interesting.
he's sending invitations to boy's hearts, saying "i think she might like you, could you visit her?"
the turnout is interesting.
oh yeah, i'm on the internet for a reason. sorry, i had to have a conversation with myself for an hour and a half, to prove that it could never end.
if anyone wants to try talking to me for 24 hours straight, let me know.
P.S.- Everyone should know that Monkey and Bear by Joanna Newsom has the best lyrics ever. You don't even have to like the sound of her voice, or anything, just read those lyrics. Read them out loud too, to appreciate the sound of the words.
i like the company of my cat too. she felt softer than ever.
i like the company of my friends. abby made me aware of something today, i asked her how she could possibly talk on the phone for an hour and a half, and she said, "how could the conversation stop?". we have our entire lives to talk about. we have two lives to talk about. the great thing is, we can even talk about our sleeping life, our unconscious. i could tell you about the time when i first listened to the beatles when i was 11, sitting on the bus next to my best friend holding my hello kitty cd player. i could tell you about earlier that day, sitting on this hilltop overlooking a valley eating a bagged lunch.
each thought leads to another. i could sit and remember everything, every thought. i want to take a day where i spend all 24 hours talking, without stopping to think, just talking complete train of thought. my train of thought never stops.
it's interesting how much of my life is fiction though. how many of my memories are places i've visited in books. how i've been taught to never believe in anything. i've learned through experience never to trust people. never to believe what you see on tv. i've been pretending to be in love, and pretending to believe my daydreams, because the only thing i've learned to believe is myself.
i had this dream last night that i went to sasquatch, and i watched fleet foxes play. i really think that band IS a musical version of my brain. my brain stew. i knew it the first moment i saw them with their beards and their instruments. i recognized the sound of myself. in the dream, they had these dancers all scattered on that big hill in big dresses. and choirs, everyone in the audience was among the choir. after that, the arcade fire played. the stage showed the most beautiful sunset, with mountains, like the one in the painting. then these huge flowers sprouted from the stage, and the band members clung onto them like jack and the beanstalk as they grew higher.
i keep sending these memos to my heart: don't forget to cut their hair short. tell them to be honest with themselves. have them visit my dreams. tell them to be interesting.
he's sending invitations to boy's hearts, saying "i think she might like you, could you visit her?"
the turnout is interesting.
oh yeah, i'm on the internet for a reason. sorry, i had to have a conversation with myself for an hour and a half, to prove that it could never end.
if anyone wants to try talking to me for 24 hours straight, let me know.
P.S.- Everyone should know that Monkey and Bear by Joanna Newsom has the best lyrics ever. You don't even have to like the sound of her voice, or anything, just read those lyrics. Read them out loud too, to appreciate the sound of the words.