You’ve gotta be silent in order not to wake the devils up. Invisible insects and you and your empty cups. Tonight is fenouil-proof! Like the ones before. You’ve always liked that linden smell anyway. Maybe because once upon a time in the past; ‘your skin smells linden’ you were told. Now that feels warm. No? Time is kicking seeming a bit shy below the darkness. You wish you had some linden and Elliott Smith.
That feeling you have in your vessels. They are getting so vast that you can have the Mediterranean Sea settled in them. Peace. Happiness. Due to the mood; depression. But happiness mostly. Mood surfing upon drinks surfing. Cheating on all of them using an alternative one. Like the life itself. Cheating on all your tastes and favorites when the ‘random’ time comes. Being that moderate, understanding, unconcerned human being you have never achieved to become. Sepia looking head lights shining on your night. Encouraging to show off. You are that one person walking alone. Scared. Or just worried a bit. With the vessels getting enlarged. C’est la vie. And this is good.
Alcohol, my permanent accessory…
We all need some. Not in the crude way. Softly and gently. So that it won’t trigger my migraine. Wouldn’t like to be the type wearing sunglasses day and night. So soft that the caramel looking color invites you to hallucinate over the shadows. Make up the story of the whitewashed wall behind. Not so depressive, please. Light brings hope. So said Daniel Johnston once: ‘Maybe hope can shine a light… Love can save you now’.
Then there goes Jacob Golden’s calling to mind: ‘My favorite Daniel Johnston song was recorded on a tape deck before you were born...’ Can’t truly figure which song is Jacob’s favorite. Not a big big deal anyway. I will just shine my lights on tonight.
Let’s sit and have a rest. Shall we? Stretch your legs to the bits and give hatred looks to the blocks you won’t ever see again. Think positive, eh? An old AmAnSet record cherishing your ears, eyelids down and fingers air-drumming. Benches are cool. You can scratch your name on them. Or your imaginary lovers’. Stupid lyrics. Nietzscherian quotes. Made up slogans. Imagine being a drunkard and falling asleep just before the morning light. Leaves will protect you from the devils you create in your imagination. People are evil and so is their imagination. Benches are nice. They don’t breathe.
Authentic stone house. On the highway up to a mountain in everland. No windows. No water network. No wireless dsl. No furniture. No TV. No cars. White walls. Wooden parquet. Limited electricity. Unbearable silence. Sold for nothing. Just costs unawared captivity. Last call. Buy it or leave it. You shall not regret. Promise.
It feels I am missing out on life while trying to live. That sounds complicated now. It is called fake philosophy ladies and gentleman. And “I’ here stands for everyone.
This is weird. I haven’t even started posting properly but I keep getting these ‘comments’ from all over the web. Some finds it informative what I have posted (!), some thinks it is interesting/fun/amazing…etc. Dunno if the spammer effort should be discredited or really respected. Probably the latter one considering the effort these virtual guys have been making. Given me still haven’t taken any step further building this very blog of mine. The not so bright side of the point is that I’d have thought that ‘people’ do ’really’ like my posts if I was ACTUALLY posting something apart from trials and errors. Yep. This is weird. Spammers read me.
They somehow find and click my link. And what I do against this ‘loyalty’? Delete them all comments. Talk about ingratitude.
Trying to figure out how this thing works. So much details. It sucks to be a perfectionist at times. As if…
Mercy
MOG