a great face in the sky
[jul 09 2006, 19:12]
i talked to the moon yesterday.
we went bowling yesterday night to forget the fifa whatever© world cup 2006. i hadn't ever done this before (can you believe it?) but at least at the beginning i didn't suck too much.
after that, we made a campfire in terje's garden and spent the rest of the night talking, warming ourselves, eating hot bread off sticks and trying to prevent the flames from incinerating everything around us, including us.
and then i went home.
if shoes and time had permitted her, she would have come too, but they didn't and so she didn't. perhaps it was better that way.
clarity in my ears and bears and limousines in the sky.
and the big smiling yellow face, looking down upon me.
and while trying not to wake the cows and horses, while trying not to trip over a thought or a tree trunk, we talked, or rather i talked and he listened (i'm quite sure it's a 'he' as 'he' didn't disagree) and i told him about some things that are going on and asked him whether he could help, and make things different and as he didn't reply i guess he meant he could before he slipped behind the trees and drunken soccer fans and street lamps.
and when i came home, i tried to remember how i had got here and why and all i could think of was 'out of habit' and that was not really a good thing to think at three in the morning and i considered the sky for another second or so and then i closed the shades and put my head to rest and heard sirius dying.
and when i woke up today, things were exactly the same, just a day older, exactly the same but differently so and i tried to wake up, tried to understand but i didn't succeed and somehow i feel like i'm still sleeping and like i'm never going to wake up because sigur rós is a lot more like the soundtrack to a dream than to real life and the clouds in my head and in the sky make all the difference in the world.
last week, i could attribute all this to a lack of sleep but now i'm beginning to understand that it's a more general state of mind that's filled me up ever since i made a decision i didn't want to make.
i shouldn't have had to make.
but it's summer.
and i'm sitting in the rain.
i haven't cried for more than ten years. not because i felt i had to be strong or something but just because nothing ever poked that little spot in me.
you did, on friday.
and that's the saddest thing about the whole shebang.
charon
we went bowling yesterday night to forget the fifa whatever© world cup 2006. i hadn't ever done this before (can you believe it?) but at least at the beginning i didn't suck too much.
after that, we made a campfire in terje's garden and spent the rest of the night talking, warming ourselves, eating hot bread off sticks and trying to prevent the flames from incinerating everything around us, including us.
and then i went home.
if shoes and time had permitted her, she would have come too, but they didn't and so she didn't. perhaps it was better that way.
clarity in my ears and bears and limousines in the sky.
and the big smiling yellow face, looking down upon me.
and while trying not to wake the cows and horses, while trying not to trip over a thought or a tree trunk, we talked, or rather i talked and he listened (i'm quite sure it's a 'he' as 'he' didn't disagree) and i told him about some things that are going on and asked him whether he could help, and make things different and as he didn't reply i guess he meant he could before he slipped behind the trees and drunken soccer fans and street lamps.
and when i came home, i tried to remember how i had got here and why and all i could think of was 'out of habit' and that was not really a good thing to think at three in the morning and i considered the sky for another second or so and then i closed the shades and put my head to rest and heard sirius dying.
and when i woke up today, things were exactly the same, just a day older, exactly the same but differently so and i tried to wake up, tried to understand but i didn't succeed and somehow i feel like i'm still sleeping and like i'm never going to wake up because sigur rós is a lot more like the soundtrack to a dream than to real life and the clouds in my head and in the sky make all the difference in the world.
last week, i could attribute all this to a lack of sleep but now i'm beginning to understand that it's a more general state of mind that's filled me up ever since i made a decision i didn't want to make.
i shouldn't have had to make.
but it's summer.
and i'm sitting in the rain.
i haven't cried for more than ten years. not because i felt i had to be strong or something but just because nothing ever poked that little spot in me.
you did, on friday.
and that's the saddest thing about the whole shebang.
charon