| Can you love me like you think? |
[09 Oct 2006|12:58am] |
Could you...
really take the weight off my finger? Could you deliver the metal from me..take the albatross off my neck? Could you?
Really? Could you kiss my forehead in the rain..to scamper away with me through the pooling water, through my thick and thin..could you lay your lips on my skin and kiss me through my strands of thick hair and thicker doubt. Through my shaking fingers could you caress me with every ounce of your quivering soul?
Perhaps..
I just need to pull this off..can you help me? Can you assure me you'll be there? Can you tell me you'll be there when I place all five of the fingers of my righ hand in your heart, and I kiss my words into you, can you tell me with all sincerity you'll give up the face of your moon, and the waves of your waterfalls to me? Because i'm worth all of it..and more..
But will you see it?
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[09 Oct 2006|01:09am] |
My bed is the only place where things make sense. Even you. It's all I need, and the need is only quashed when I lay down..my open wings are dark but my closed breathed light. I sleep to dream, but I don't dream of you. I don't dream of anyone.
I would have somebody to dream of, but I need to know she gasps my name, like I was air when she arose from the sea after being almost drowned..shaking legs loose from a seaweed she was caught up in. I'm not a fool, and my bed keeps me safe..but it's where I want you..
and I want you there to keep me warm...
because dammit, it's too big for me to stretch about in anymore...it's like i'm trying to fill the desert with a handfull of sand..i'm all over, i'm all out of water..and your oasis is disappearing..
And you make yourself no clearer...you're either there or you're not..you're the last gulp in my water bottle..you're the last blessing on my chest when I lay down on you in the humid air..you're the cross of my heart when I don't even pray..
And I don't even know you well enough..
And then..you come to me..out of my blue..while i'm setting up my instruments for another lament in the open salt air..you clouded up when I thought i'd be walking alone..you nestled me near your breast when I didn't expect you..and when I do, you're gone again.
So give me a jolt tonight. I'm lonely. And I need someone like you.
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[09 Oct 2006|01:15am] |
I think i've got work to read out tomorrow. If you asked me to write something about love, sex, or the romantic at my thudding heart, i'd be okay, but writing about others, about things they did or do or have done, and i'm stumped. I have spat teeth trying to punch it out of me..
I'll do what I did last time out, and swallow my lack of creative wit, read out my little story about gramps and fall silent. I can't think in the other person. I want to write something about me. Perhaps that's it..maybe the good is being forced to write from all points of view.
So I will struggle out my disjointed words. Stories are best told from my heart, and these aren't. I remember grandad, but not well enough. I can only write about what I do remember. Fiction or not.
I guess, I want to have love again. Not just to write about, but because love is love. It enriches my life as well as my art, and I in turn enrich it. To have it once is blessed, and I have had. But I want it again. I feel sometimes i'm on the brink, but the being close to it but not close enough is a little too close. And it flaws me, my writing stops in it's face.
And the face ticks with every tock.
It's hard. It's worth it though.
I hope.
Tonight I drank rather a lot with the boys. Dave, Dan, Rich and myself got perplexedly smashed for a Sunday night. We went wandering in the night air, got lost in the Durlock lanes. Just like old times.
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[09 Oct 2006|11:39am] |
What if when I was asked to read out my homework tonight I just read out the lyrics to Rock your body by Justin Timberlake. Monosylabically. Every single line. And that includes the beats at the end.
Anyway, I have to go to work. Bye!
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[09 Oct 2006|03:18pm] |
Astonishing. I told you I was unique.
I can't even begin to tell you how awful work was today. The fan's still not working, so it's humid, sticky and hot. And i'm getting fed up with it.
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[09 Oct 2006|03:45pm] |
I can hear her breath,
she's like a foghorn on my lake,
crashing tides into my heart,
and sucking my ship down as it gets dark..
I can't wake up and I can't stop drowning,
beneath my skin I hear her pounding..
in the night, on the water,
a bell is sounding..
I can hear her feet,
it's her I rush out to meet..
but in the twilight,
there's nothing but me,
holding onto those sounds...
and sleeping in the waves..
again and again..
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[09 Oct 2006|04:32pm] |
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/2340405.stm
Many interesting things about the N Korea crisis. I find the whole thing..horribly intriguing. I've always had a peculiar and morbid interest in the areas of nuclear confrontation, terrifying or not.
I don't like what's happening. To say the least.
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[09 Oct 2006|05:11pm] |
I remember editing bits of Journey into space, especially David Kossof's hilarious cockney Lemmy in series 2. There are bits that made me piss myself, especially the screaming when he wakes up from a nightmare.
And there's this bit, from when he is talking about the supposed Martians, after being told that the only life thought to exist on Mars was a primitive sort of vegetable life:
"You mean...you mean the fellas that fly in that ship are a bunch of carrots? Vegetable men?"
This made my pisser fall off primarily because I started to imagine walking carrots. Actual carrots. With eyes. He then goes on..
"And how do we know a human turnip isn't carry us off like they did with the rest of 'em"
Hysterical. He's going through all the root vegetables now. It gets even better:
"We don't know what these flat footed cabbages can do..."
Brilliant! Lemmy's certainly the kind of man you want on a massively important mission to Mars, isn't he?
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