that last one was nonsense.
I still keep having weird dreams...this is one or two of them. had to write them down, i'm just bored is all, and confused.
...well, i was in my house, chilling out to a record or playing guitar or maybe even reading i think when the door goes and the next moment's a blur but on the sofa is a girl i knew i didn't know well. a pale girl, dark hair and sad eyes and all but pretty. her eyes were like wells - dark, deep places, cold and with ancient all-knowing charm, but if you were lucky enough to find one you dropped something of yours in and made a wish and if you were luckier still, your wish came true. i thought about making a wish as we talked.
it became both more and less clear to me who she was at the same time, which is a strange feeling. she had an uncanny resemblance to christina ricci. the more we talked the more i knew she was not an actual friend of mine. she was someone knew, but the exact circumstances of her arrival weren't evident exactly. we grew closer and talked about my gigs which i thought she might find interesting and if she did, depending on her reaction, i'd throw in a coin of worth into her eyes as an investment for a wish. i had been screwed before by this method, and was more cautious this time.
that got us to talking about songs we liked. she knew my heroes and my people and my record collection corners of interest. mr adams came up and i saw her smile a few times as if we were getting on comfortably. she was cold and reserved at first, like she had stepped out of the adams family. anyway, i looked for a cd to listen to with her. i found regina spektor and ryan adams and tried to put them on, but the stereo wouldn't work. i couldn't understand it. the cds had all been knocked out of order too and i had difficulty finding anything. something was stopping me throw in my worth.
she told me she had seventeen minutes to go before she had to leave and i made the most of it until i offered to walk her back. she said yeah and we began walking back. but we weren't in kansas anymore toto, this was where i had grown up for the first few years of my life in a dreaded place where high flats sat like tombstones and cast their shaddows over the hill which led to a sprawling 17th century graveyard.
she turned to me and i made my intentions clear. i wanted her. i wanted her hand in mine, her eyes forever fixed on mine even though it did twist my head and stomach in knots each time our eyes knocked together. in fact i can remember that was something i had to overcome. it took some practise before i could let our eyes hammer together, then stay with each other like people in a bed resting. but i did it and when she was telling me, she'd be no good for me, she had problems and other excuses, i kept at it...looking into the wishing well with its cold, dark, old and lucky mysticism, and i threw in all i was worth.
we kissed and fit. like t h a t
then i'm walking her home again i guess. only, i don't know what happened the last time, if we reached home or not. i think she left me at the bridge that crosses the rail road tracks and insisted on finding her own way back. this time we were on the other side of the graveyard, and i get a call from her. she's upset and crying over something and i ask her to meet me past some statue of churchill which is now there for some reason. she doesn't know it, so i say the cenotaph and she doesn't know that either. she doesn't know much about war.
i get her by the steps of the st enoch shopping centre. she finds me and cries in my arms and we embrace it all better. but it doesn't matter, cause i've put all my worth into those wishing wells and have been promised a good deal afterall. but now it's hazy. i remember the next moment of clarity as if it was my own birth. attacked by a dog. climbing a hill to the graveyard through the night which fell fast like the rain which caused mud on the hill we were climbing. it was a struggle, but i beat that dog on the nose and we helped each other to the top of the hill, which somehow became a very narrow wooden ledge. on it was pictures of myself. i showed her some and she reacted with laughter, intrigue and other emotions. but i kept some to myself and threw them away.
next thing i know, it's some time later and i want to see her. but she tells me she can't and i never see her again. wake up next morning to start an english class at university a month earlier than i should have. and here's some teacher, hard and unforgiving banging on about things and the seats are cramped and we can't hardly fit and when i get up i can hardly stand. miss H comes in, sits down and i see her. she's blonder, breasts bigger, back straighter, behind bigger also. she's devoid of her small charm and is wearing pink, i aint never seen her wear pink in my life yet here she is like some council estate barbie doll.
and here's the strangest part... the teacher, i think she's boring me to sleep, so i close my eyes and fall asleep again to wake up ion my bed. which is a strange backwards process to waking up, don't you think? well, anyway.. i see her, standing on the edge of an island. she says "this is my island and where i was from. i shall use this island as a torch to enlighten the darkened corners of all the further places in my journey."
i wonder what that all means.
...well, i was in my house, chilling out to a record or playing guitar or maybe even reading i think when the door goes and the next moment's a blur but on the sofa is a girl i knew i didn't know well. a pale girl, dark hair and sad eyes and all but pretty. her eyes were like wells - dark, deep places, cold and with ancient all-knowing charm, but if you were lucky enough to find one you dropped something of yours in and made a wish and if you were luckier still, your wish came true. i thought about making a wish as we talked.
it became both more and less clear to me who she was at the same time, which is a strange feeling. she had an uncanny resemblance to christina ricci. the more we talked the more i knew she was not an actual friend of mine. she was someone knew, but the exact circumstances of her arrival weren't evident exactly. we grew closer and talked about my gigs which i thought she might find interesting and if she did, depending on her reaction, i'd throw in a coin of worth into her eyes as an investment for a wish. i had been screwed before by this method, and was more cautious this time.
that got us to talking about songs we liked. she knew my heroes and my people and my record collection corners of interest. mr adams came up and i saw her smile a few times as if we were getting on comfortably. she was cold and reserved at first, like she had stepped out of the adams family. anyway, i looked for a cd to listen to with her. i found regina spektor and ryan adams and tried to put them on, but the stereo wouldn't work. i couldn't understand it. the cds had all been knocked out of order too and i had difficulty finding anything. something was stopping me throw in my worth.
she told me she had seventeen minutes to go before she had to leave and i made the most of it until i offered to walk her back. she said yeah and we began walking back. but we weren't in kansas anymore toto, this was where i had grown up for the first few years of my life in a dreaded place where high flats sat like tombstones and cast their shaddows over the hill which led to a sprawling 17th century graveyard.
she turned to me and i made my intentions clear. i wanted her. i wanted her hand in mine, her eyes forever fixed on mine even though it did twist my head and stomach in knots each time our eyes knocked together. in fact i can remember that was something i had to overcome. it took some practise before i could let our eyes hammer together, then stay with each other like people in a bed resting. but i did it and when she was telling me, she'd be no good for me, she had problems and other excuses, i kept at it...looking into the wishing well with its cold, dark, old and lucky mysticism, and i threw in all i was worth.
we kissed and fit. like t h a t
then i'm walking her home again i guess. only, i don't know what happened the last time, if we reached home or not. i think she left me at the bridge that crosses the rail road tracks and insisted on finding her own way back. this time we were on the other side of the graveyard, and i get a call from her. she's upset and crying over something and i ask her to meet me past some statue of churchill which is now there for some reason. she doesn't know it, so i say the cenotaph and she doesn't know that either. she doesn't know much about war.
i get her by the steps of the st enoch shopping centre. she finds me and cries in my arms and we embrace it all better. but it doesn't matter, cause i've put all my worth into those wishing wells and have been promised a good deal afterall. but now it's hazy. i remember the next moment of clarity as if it was my own birth. attacked by a dog. climbing a hill to the graveyard through the night which fell fast like the rain which caused mud on the hill we were climbing. it was a struggle, but i beat that dog on the nose and we helped each other to the top of the hill, which somehow became a very narrow wooden ledge. on it was pictures of myself. i showed her some and she reacted with laughter, intrigue and other emotions. but i kept some to myself and threw them away.
next thing i know, it's some time later and i want to see her. but she tells me she can't and i never see her again. wake up next morning to start an english class at university a month earlier than i should have. and here's some teacher, hard and unforgiving banging on about things and the seats are cramped and we can't hardly fit and when i get up i can hardly stand. miss H comes in, sits down and i see her. she's blonder, breasts bigger, back straighter, behind bigger also. she's devoid of her small charm and is wearing pink, i aint never seen her wear pink in my life yet here she is like some council estate barbie doll.
and here's the strangest part... the teacher, i think she's boring me to sleep, so i close my eyes and fall asleep again to wake up ion my bed. which is a strange backwards process to waking up, don't you think? well, anyway.. i see her, standing on the edge of an island. she says "this is my island and where i was from. i shall use this island as a torch to enlighten the darkened corners of all the further places in my journey."
i wonder what that all means.