(+sadphonic)
��������� �����the kind of thing i wish i could sleep away.but i can't. faintly redolent of turkish gold cigarettes and my right flip-flop soaked in corona, a drive home with a stop at tim horton's, from the house on south kelsey rd. tonight it was a spur of the moment decision, with a lent three dollars from jason for gas, and away we go, postal service for soundtrack. all set for a mildly harmonious evening.
for some reason i'm cataclysmically depressed, as a result. the drive home was fraught with a strange attack of music ADD - i couldn't decide what to listen to. bjork, the soundtrack to memento, finally settling on the mothman prophecies soundtrack, disc 1. and as we lay here, i feel the stars above, and you're my one & only - i'd kill for intimacy.
"oh, yeah, we did it out in a field in the middle of nowhere under the stars."
the questions game, passed around the circle. "what color do you see yourself as"
"i see myself as cobalt." // "yes i see you as a gray." i'm bright orange / i'm green, i'm green too, i see you as purple, yuk i hate purple - gold, definitely gold -
etc. //
regressing slightly. pulling back. in the car - "i think i get happy like other people get sad. you know. most people are happy happy happy, then they get sad, then they're happy again. i'm sad sad sad, then happy, then sad again."
the mist on the road ahead accumulates like an angry cloud. tonight, the sky had a second horizon - the black clouds lay flat, leaving only a vigorous stroke of blue beneath it. yellowed, jaundiced smoke hung like disconnected cigarette smoke beneath the thicker black clouds - lightning seared like lighters being flicked. then the rain, steady & sure - but it was only a cloudburst, which didn't last enough to make the soccerfields turn muddy. but it did break most of the humidity, leaving it in huge clear fragments on the ground.
i need ... something. "i'm on the verge of becoming cataclysmically depressed and i don't know why."
jason, tipsy, gets into the car and says "oh, well, we'll talk about it, it'll be fine." - then - "but you don't know what's wrong." so silence pervaded. and now, i'm twisted up inside like i don't know what. the whole way home was me thinking "i'm depressed. ok. i can deal with this. now how do i get out of it." people always say - put a smile on, act happy, and then you will. i don't want to. so i guess i don't want to not be sad? something.
(pad thai, meet stomach. stomach, meet pad thai. good? good.)
i wish it would rain. downpour. i wish i could share how beautiful and starkly white the church steeple was against the smoke-gray sky and the yellow smoke and the swaying red traffic lights were with someone near and not feel like i'm being stupid. i wish i could exult in the rain without feeling cliche.
i wish i could sleep this feeling off. but it's wrenching & tearing at me. i feel unutterably annoyed and alone. jason's gone to bed. i can't wake him up, he needs his rest. i .. don't .. know anyone else. no one's online, and the people i know closely right now i don't know well enough to talk like this. this frustration will soon take on physical form and i will explode for no reason.
i need to post some lyrics from the postal service because they're my new favourite band and this song is fucking amazing.
i wanted to walk through the empty streets / and feel something constant under my feet / but all the news reports recommended that i stay indoors / because the air outside will make our cells divide at an alarming rate / until our shells simply cannot hold / all our insides in / and that's when we'll explode / and it won't be a pretty sight
that's me. transient & floating. cigarette smoke in wobbly rings through the air. stormclouds, angry & passionate & beautiful one moment, dissipated the next into a cheery blue sky (+rainbow).
how tragic.