mood: rubbery
music: 'drop' by hope sandoval & the warm inventions
you know when i know i've had a good night?
when i walk towards my bed, i fear nothing and nothing fears me.
if it's still sometime before sunrise when i go to sleep. that way i can enjoy silence instead of seeing light creeping up on my eyelids and hearing the neighbors start their cars and rush off to work.
if i took a shower, but i'm dry already when i decide to finally lay down. i feel clean and smooth and moving my legs around under the covers feels like manueuvering through a cloud.
the music playing is by one of the following artists:
- sigur ros
- slowdive
- hope sandoval & the warm inventions
- mazzy star
- my bloody valentine
i can breathe easily and i can only think of one subject at a time.
if i feel like i'm sinking under the covers. like the mattress is trying to absorb me and the blanket is its accomplice.
i feel physically empty, but not in the way that makes me want to eat something.
if nothing can penetrate my room, and for once i am king.
last night i was just out of the shower and my hair was still a little damp. i laid a towel on my pillow because i was feeling the need for some sleep. i shut off my computer and went over to choose my music. hope sandoval & the warm inventions.
as my computer turned off i turned off the light too. it was still dark outside and now the pitch black extended its reach to inside my room too. i laid down and pulled the blanket over me, finding my usual position. the blanket was heavy tonight, and as 'suzanne' played in the background it only got heavier. my feet were twisted up in the oddest but most comfortable way possible and all i could think of were fortune cookies.
why? whenever you open a fortune cookie, you're curious, but not afraid. again, why? because fortune cookies are never bad news. it's always a guess between this sort of good fortune or that sort of good fortune.
patronizing? maybe.
optimistic? yes.
marketing? definitely.
i know that sounds really cynical, but the thought of not having to fear like that was comforting.
at this point i can't lift my arms; the untitled track on the album is playing and each reverbed note hangs in the air for an extra second before reaching me. they each render me more and more anesthetized.
soon i can't keep track of what i'm thinking about anymore, and that's the point where thoughts start turning into dreams.
i was flying down the sidelines of the ballona wetlands in marina del rey on a motorcycle. an old honda rebel. and it didn't matter how i worked the clutch or the gears; however i decided to work the bike, it only brought me different kinds of good news.
3 comments:
i think i have a crush on you :o
if this is who i think it is,
then it's mutual. ;)
(re-read 'backs to the sand'. see if you can catch something new.)
that's too bad.
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