Camping.
Posted May 24, 2007
-Untitled. (In the most convenient way)
This is a rag-tag, a collection, a memoir of sorts. Your laugh, and rebound laced though the sunrise, sunset, star shine, sleepy thoughts unwind, rewind. Hit play
It doesnt start off with a clash of symbols and a flash of light. More slowly, spiraling upward, outward, blooming quietly, but soon growing and spreading till it covers you whole. Lifts you upward and yanks you about. Soon the floor fells unsteady under your feet, because youre walking to fast, to slow, differentially. Youve changed.
Without knowing, without trying, your mind, once a blackboard with chalk-scribbles for thoughts has now been translated, re-written, understood.
Start from scratch. Start from the beginning, because youve finished the end. And the end is finished with you.
Too many words, but not enough feelings, I cant choose, pick, decide which ones to use, invert, employ to save time, money, space, (my mind). An illegible line, a carousel of un-ending circles, a spiders web caught in the golden tendrils of the morning light, pause. Stop. Stare. Breath in and out. Go.
It started with puddles, and raindrops and whispers. My shoes stacked by the heater, my pillow wrapped in a rain jacket, wet hair clinging to the black of my neck. A bad stereo system pumping out words to an unintelligible song, too many people, too many voices, I cant understand the words, but I listen anyway. Rewrite the sentences, correct the grammar, listen to the syllables, seeking, searching, looking for a pattern to shape, mold, define these conversations. This mosh-pit of words.
Un-tuned guitar notes, reverberating around a small wooden room, excitement, anticipation, an unnamed emotion, a dizzy sensation, this could be
Giggling, spinning, discard the shoes that weigh you down, bare feet slapping the ground, get to where you want to go. Run nonstop, as if in fast motion, as if youre weightless, as if youre nothing.
Cant get the words out of my mouth fast enough, so they come out jumbled, lumped together, a tangle of thoughts, encased in sounds, noises, tinged blue from the rain, the atmosphere, the color of the ocean.
I want to be 5 different places at once, so I run, sprint, dash, but my feet lead me different directions and I fall, crash, land, sprawled. Lying down on the ground, grass, dew, talk in slow Smokey breaths, look up at the stars, pretend to be invisible. Rubbing shoulders against others just to feel the friction, texture, sentiment. I hope, you hope, I hope he hopes, I hope he hopes she hopes but I find it hard to think when all I want to do is understand what youre thinking.
Bed time, but not really, not yet, youre not ready, its too soon, you need to slow down.
But.
You.
Cant.
Go depart, fly away. Drink secrets and gossip out of a silver cup, encrusted with raindrops, the moonlight, blurred stars, and different stories. Tastes heavy and full in my mouth, fills up my body till it leaks out of my eyes. We float, rise, lie suspended in each others thoughts, feelings and memories. Trading experiences like trading cards. It may start with once upon a time, but that does not mean it will end with happily ever after.
I will keep your secrets to my grave. The words we said still engraved on the walls, never to leave the room, one day to be forgotten, misplaced, lost in our memories and minds, but not yet, not yet.
Falling asleep, drifting away, to the sound of rain, and whispers, and the river rushing below, faster and faster, piece by piece, taking my conscious away with it.
The rest is a blue, with bright patches, crystal clear, but fading rapidly. Skirting, avoiding, ducking away from my hopeful fingers, words, ink definitions.
Immortalized in our different memories, it will stop one day, and fade, but those moments, these friends ships, this feeling.
This rag-tag, this collection, this memoir of sorts.
This will linger.
