uptempo, catch the downswing & ride it till dawn
��������� �����a beautiful percussive rain.i cannot extol the virtues of the postal service enough. i do believe they may be my second favourite band of all time, after godspeed you black emperor and before jason mraz. absolutely now.
red lights at intersections & jason's 20th birthday today (happy birthday, jase) and denny's at late o'clock. "we have three weeks to do ... whatever!" from tara's words. tonight was a night to go to the beach and sit on the hood of the car, drink a beer and smoke a cigarette in the fog, but it began to rain and i realized i had very little gas in the car. it was enough to make it back to campus, unfortunately, because i think i would've rather liked to have broken down somewhere and stood on the side of the road with my thumb out and my clothes sticking to my skin with the pseudo-adhesive of the rain and discontent thunder all around.
travis' fan keeps breaking down slowly, whirring to a stuttering stop & finally back to normal in the next moment. it's an odd allegory to how the days have been passing, unremarkably with a stutter of joy & excitement. dim lights and dim headaches all alleviated with the intense closeness of the group, all of us from the show at denny's, loud & annoying (those Kids that you see in the big booths laughing hysterically over something so stupid, interrupting your dinner - ) involved, happy, belonging. a firm, close-knit sense. something i don't usually feel, something boundless and incredible that's only just beginning.
"soulmates!" tara c. keeps saying, shaking her head like a psychic. "soulmates." the song "shiver" by coldplay is blasting on the red-lighted radio as me at the tiller of el woody bursts down the connecting highway in westbrook, barely stopping to notice the blur of red light or the stately sappi papermill smokestack, which usually holds such significance for me. so much more interested in the talk of europe, drunk on french wine on the steps of the chartres cathedral, all the angels and saints in marvellous marble stately arrayed above your head, mock-pondering your eventual fate (up/down/left/right - sideways into a new universe?) and stern motherly faces on the soldiers of heavenly cause ..
france is only one country in europe. i remember peter & the spanish rain over the telephone. only one half of a destination.
the rain tonight seems like breathing, steady and sure. i've been writing a lot more lately. something bright & beautiful in life, pulsing and smiling at the corners of my mouth. something unutterable. the beach at night, imagined clouds drifting, the expectancy of rain but with no undercurrents of thunder. warm orange lights and piercing halogens. the reflections of faraway lampposts in puddles. smiles. the delicate curve that the shadow in a photograph imparts to someone's face, a botticelli nose and the graceful curve of an eyebrow, with confident eyes and a hint of monalisa in her ancestry. all the additives. cake that tastes so good that it must be from god's own fingers.
ecstasy in music and in hope and in the gently vibrating timbre of life.