a cold summer's night, seven years ago...
think that i'm now irrecoverably obsessed with arcade fire... it's already hard-wired into my brain, i'm sure of it.
their "neighborhood" songs take me back to my old neighborhood, when i was in high school, when i was a dreamer...
i wondered, "are there others out there? where is everyone?"
there was something desperate about that whole time period. it felt like waking up, but not really wanting to. there was once a cold summer's night, seven years ago, when the sky lit up with something i wanted but wasn't ready for.
i dreamed up a similar story to the one i've been listening to (pure coincidence, honest). it happened on a distant planet, with an ancient red sun and dying trees, breathing their very last. life didn't have a reason anymore; she was just an animated corpse. there were only two survivors who still had that sparkle in their eye, two lovers, magnetized together by trickery, by desperation, but mostly by the game of tug-of-war their hearts were playing in the shadows.
i tried to write about this, but didn't really have the strength or clarity of mind at the time to breathe life into it. i'm not really sure why i'm writing about this. i guess that i'm wondering if they ever found each other while i've been away. i like to think that it isn't "my" story. i like to think that it's something a lot more universal than that. sometimes that exists with or without me.
but still. why am i still here? there's that word again...
it's just all so seismic inside. i suppose that eruption's inevitable. the question isn't if, but when, and how. the need to create is overwhelming. i just need to keep pushing myself. it's not too late.
it's so easy to get deadlocked into confusion and boredom. maybe our boredom (unwillingness to live in the present) is our failure to deal with confusion. sometimes, it's easier to fall back into our fantasies, to a time-era that once made sense, to a place that doesn't challenge us. sometimes, we're mostly afraid of not what could or couldn't be, but of what stands right in front of us...
their "neighborhood" songs take me back to my old neighborhood, when i was in high school, when i was a dreamer...
i wondered, "are there others out there? where is everyone?"
there was something desperate about that whole time period. it felt like waking up, but not really wanting to. there was once a cold summer's night, seven years ago, when the sky lit up with something i wanted but wasn't ready for.
i dreamed up a similar story to the one i've been listening to (pure coincidence, honest). it happened on a distant planet, with an ancient red sun and dying trees, breathing their very last. life didn't have a reason anymore; she was just an animated corpse. there were only two survivors who still had that sparkle in their eye, two lovers, magnetized together by trickery, by desperation, but mostly by the game of tug-of-war their hearts were playing in the shadows.
i tried to write about this, but didn't really have the strength or clarity of mind at the time to breathe life into it. i'm not really sure why i'm writing about this. i guess that i'm wondering if they ever found each other while i've been away. i like to think that it isn't "my" story. i like to think that it's something a lot more universal than that. sometimes that exists with or without me.
but still. why am i still here? there's that word again...
it's just all so seismic inside. i suppose that eruption's inevitable. the question isn't if, but when, and how. the need to create is overwhelming. i just need to keep pushing myself. it's not too late.
it's so easy to get deadlocked into confusion and boredom. maybe our boredom (unwillingness to live in the present) is our failure to deal with confusion. sometimes, it's easier to fall back into our fantasies, to a time-era that once made sense, to a place that doesn't challenge us. sometimes, we're mostly afraid of not what could or couldn't be, but of what stands right in front of us...