Tuesday, February 28, 2006
hypnoteromachia
vibra-pedal harmonics toasting the starkly-bright noonday sky with sliding glissandos and slinking melodies. i drowsed today in my bed, with the sunshine telling me it was all going to be alright, wrapping itself around my calves and pushing my eyelids over the edge and into slumber. now as i sit and recall my jumbled dreams it all seems wrong somehow, a detail i've missed. was it the dust like fairy-motes glowing faintly against the curtains? or the frantic cries of cicadas lost? or the fading husky notes of gershwin and davis melting in and out of consciousness and weaving themselves into a smoky dream i can't seem to forget, don't want to remember, or is it the other way around?
there's a game out there, and the stakes are high,
and the guy who runs it figures the averages all day long, and all night.
once in a while he lets you steal a pot,
but if you stay in the game long enough,
you've got to lose.
and once you've lost,
there's no way back, no way at all.
--dj shadow, what does your soul look like (part two)
and the night stretches, darkly.
+ fictions&fires
10:54 PM
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plangere, latin: to strike, or to lament.
in the depth of winter i finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.
--albert camus
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to be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
-- ee cummings
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