Wednesday, May 30, 2007

coral pink

It has to be completely silent in order to write effectively.The pepsi must be kept in the shade,the squirrels must be perched on their branches and the sunlight must make the bark of the huge tree its canvas.Shadows must be hazy and inaccurate on the mulch-ridden ground,cigarette butts and broken branches scattered artistically among the green grass.


It is too late to go anywhere now,the slow-setting sun is playing with her golden brown hair.Smooth,plain,with no dire consequences.She has nothing to do but to hunch over and look at the weary trail as he flashes aluminum foil in her eyes,making her squint.She sings quietly;
'My baby is red bird
flyin across the sky
My baby is a bluebird
learnin how to ful-ly'

He throws a rock in a puddel,dirty at that.The wind slowly drives the fleas away.He pauses, studying every line God put on her skin.
'You're a child of the soul'
'You have wheat in your hair'
She stared,feeling shivers down her spine.It wasn't fair.
His hat flew off,hiding somewhere in the messy field.The beat got faster and her foot started tapping.By the time he got his hat back,she was gone.Her hair ribbon stayed though.

Some things know when not to leave.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Sometimes,if I'm sitting alone and thinking about what to do the very next minute,I can actually feel the dirtiness of my feet.Like when you don't put on shoes while going to the bathroom,or when the stairs need vacuuming,or when you're lying on new bedsheets.The feeling of being impure yet humane is something I will probably never understand.



He enters the elevator,smelling nice,red hair pushed back and shoelaces tied.He knows he must get through this,for the sake of his friend,and it really doesn't matter anyway.For once,he was neither high nor sleepy.Best make the best of the free time he had before he crawled back into his lair,back into his world of elephants and drawings that meant nothing to no one.


'
You know,I always wondered what you might've looked like when you were a child'
He didn't even realize there was someone else in the elevator.She giggled.
'
Beg your pardon?'
'Its your eyes.They're big.And big eyes tend to stick,you know.'
'.....'
'Never mind'


Silence,as the floor turns from 13 to 15.
He clears his throat just to feel the air vibrating.


'
I'm not going to go into how happy I am to meet you or how wonderful your music is or how amazing you might be in person because here you are standing with me and that makes you more human than I am.Plus you're shorter than I expected you to be.'
He breathes silently.Sometimes..well,many times,he didn't know how to interact with people.Especially when they didn't mention his music.


15 to 17.


'
You're going to lose a die-hard fan if you don't say something quick.Not that it matters to you but I'd really like to know if you ever come out of that little box of yours'
He swallows hard.Maybe he should've been high.
'
Are you going to the roof party?'
'Heh.Look at me honey.I'm a tall girl alone in an elevator with my favorite singer in the whole world.If I'm being a total bitch to him,do you think I believe in roof parties?Negative.'
'.....'
'Some party you're going to if you're dressed like that.'


19.And the elevator stops.


'
Have fun.And if you're lucky,I'll remember this lovely conversation till I can't remember anything else'


The elevator door closes as he watches her saunter off down the hallway.
6 more floors to go.






Years later he wrote 'Lovely Conversation' for the world and she knew.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Someday,I'm going to make movies.

elephant


So it is the evening of the 25th of May and I am frantically getting ready,obviously wanting to look my best,and Lacey is raising her eyebrow at me in the background.I know its going to be a classy affair,the cello and acoustic-ness just shout it out.I dress up and Lacey dresses down to balance me out and we're walking out on the streets of D.C.She knows her way around,so I follow.We stop at Coci to eat,which by that time I'm freaking out and muttering under my breath 'we're late,we're late,we're late,we're late'.So she gives in to my whining and we start our 'long and perilous journey' to 6 blocks down the road.I'm walking fast to keep up with her long legs as she leads the way and motorcyclists make their way noisily past us.We stop at 17th Street to wait for the light to green for pedestrians when madam decides she wants a smoke.So we're still standing and waiting and I'm absolutely exasperated because its five minutes to 7 and I know there's going to be a line and I have made a mental note to forgive her if we're late.I look to my left while thinking all these thoughts,and watch the people on bicycles creating a sort of breeze for me on that hot evening.I look at the most amiable one of the lot,and my stomach does a funny flip flop.It's Damien Rice.


I look at him strangely,causing him to wink,smile and wave at the same time.I am astonished at how well I recognize him despite the fact that he's completely dressed as a tourist.Obviously,my mind is unable to form any sort of word combination till after he leaves,after which all I can say is '*pant pant pant pant* it's HIM *pant pant* I SWEAR',and Lacey being Lacey doesn't give a rat's ass and the Indian woman standing with us at the light gives her that 'you-do-realize-that-your-friend-belongs-in-a-mental-instituition-and-not-on-the-streets-of-D.C' look.So basically I'm skipping my way towards the venue and Lacey's smoking in my face to calm me the fuck down.

It is exactly the kind of classy I thought it'd be.Seated hall,lots of wine,and dressed-up couples.The stage is dimly lit with (electronic) candles and I'm sitting alone with a bunch of couples.He comes on stage wearing the same shirt he was bicycling in and it causes me to grin,cause I obviously know something no one else does.I don't think I need to go deep into detail as to how completely amazing the entire experience was,people shouting random stuff from the crowd 'My boyfriend is in love with you!' to 'I'll have your babies!' to 'Your initials make you a doctor!'.It was a much more entertaining show then I expected it to be,minus couples making out and the fact that Lisa Hannigan and Vyvienne Long weren't there.Yet it doesn't change the fact that he's still Damien Rice.He was funny,energetic,angry,comfortable,and breath-taking in all his glory.I hope he climbs further than he intends to.



And she may cry like a baby
And she may drive me crazy
'Cause I am lately, lonely..

Thursday, May 24, 2007

the joy and misery-

Ruin your freckled face
by standing in the sun too long
Sing with your golden lips
that coffee-smelling melody you do
Jam pebbles between
cracks in the concrete
Watch the ripples expand
from the disturbance you created
Fix your tilted head
to avert those dull eyes from me
Carefully stack the spring
in your already full closet

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

the music isn't real unless you don't believe in it.







*

Sunday, May 20, 2007

I have figured it out. You don't always need to 'get' people. Because if you slightly even try to, you're either surprised or disappointed,or both.
This is especially in the case of the goth who listens to techno and the brother who doesn't turn on the flood lights like I do.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

the father

Me and my father have a very love/hate relationship.I got everything,from his stubborness to his generosity to his stupidity to his poor use of words.But I have the fiery personality of my mother,which is obviously why we clash.However,I do retain that I am the only person in the house and probably even in the world,who gets along with him at a most amazing level.I'm a very showy person when it comes to feelings,I have no regard for anyone when I want to point out a mistake or something I don't approve of.Same goes for showing love.I still occasionally like to sit on my dad's lap,and I have a way of getting things done my way.But its only very very rare that I say thank you.I think people throw out their thank-yous without thinking of the deepness of it.So I retain mine for only very special moments.Here is an example of one such rare moment,and how my father is as nonchalant and aloof about the world as I am.




'So that was a really nice talk.Thank you,daddy' =)
'Man, I'm hungry.This sucks.'





(oh well)

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

His face was too big for her hands. She couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.Not like it mattered;they'd still be the people who would make everyone wonder in awe.They'd still be the cloud of purple smoke that surrounded mysteries.She would continue to love him for all the wrong reasons and he would too;even moreso.The pictures that made the others cringe,or compete,would all be framed and hung in a little personal library of bizzare memories.





*

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

find me a darcy.
and an english country side.






*