xiu xiu

this is making me deliciously happy. i've listened to it on repeat over and over for the last twenty four hours. it's one of those faster moving times where i find music again and it takes me HOME.  fast and warm. 

i often fall in love with love. and then i draw back to people, and i am back with myself again. that is where i am now, and i can see that, and it's ok, if a little bit sad because i want to drown again.  but i'm waiting, biding my time.

off to sydney today - seeing Gogol Bordello - booked tickets to see The Mountain Goats as well.  i'm going to do another list in here of bands i have seen - had one in my old outdated blog which needs refreshing.  my tummy is bulging out, i don't know if it's additional weight or what.  bus leaves at four.  the bus smooths me over, i love it, i love it. especially with headphones in, it's going to be such a pleasant trip.  i will make a playlist, oh YES> that will be fun.  and books. raymond carver, kawabata, maybe some poetry, and iris murdoch?  something thick, it's four hours, and i always end up finishing what i buy to read quickly.  maybe time to finally get off butt and read '100 years of solitude'?  yes.  likely. good idea.

...

... i feel astonishingly isolated right now.

not sure if this is for any substantial reason, or if i just drank too much, or if i am lonely, or if i am overtired, or just stressed with uni.  but i feel closed out.  not even lonely, that's not the right word, but like i've been trapped inside a cage and put in a box.

it's as though the gray dirt under my nails is crawling deeper below my fingers.  and into my arms. and down inside my blood.  i am gathering energy, as much as i can, from being around people, but i feel so cut off from myself that it's desperate.  i have pmt thought, so it's just chemistry fucking with my head.  nothing other than the balance of chemicals in my body are making this happen.

sleepless

curiouser and curiouser. 

i am a sleepy kitten by nature. i doze when i shouldn't, i sleep all day if i can, and it's easy for me to drop off the wire.

and right now, as it's been for EVERY night for the last few weeks, (pretty much since i started the breakfast eating thing), i am awake after one am, functional, clear thoughts, unable to sleep, unable to even get close. not manic energy either. it's just .... awake.  blurry, perhaps a little? but it's not asleep, it's not close.

right now, i am walking.  each day, when i walk, i focus on the way i put my feet on the ground. this is less obscure than you would think - my feet roll over onto the arch when i walk - they always have. a strange, small part of me has always blamed myself - as though this was happening because i was lazy, and i didn't be bothered walking properly. that's just not true - it's to do with a tendon being too short, bones becoming deformed in my feet, and muscle memory.  but now, when i walk, i focus on how my feet fall, on each muscle and movement, and how to make them push into the ground and off the ground, the rolling of bones next to each other, that soreness i always have in my feet that little bit rougher from the tensing of tendons, and stretching and grinding in different ways.


i am not sure if this sort of active walking helps my life in any way. i am restless and draped in that ennui again, waiting waiting for something dramatic to happen. i am sleep walking but awake, so awake, wanting to be dragged feet first out into the street and shown to the world again.  here i am waiting, waiting, waiting for something to take me, arms outstretched and head thrown to the sky, waiting.   it's blank idealism wanting this, wanting huge emotions to sweep me off my feet. the passions keep getting dimmer, now.   i fee softer degrees, more subtle shifts. but i want that madness again. i want to be drunk on passion and lust and love. i want to want to lie in bed memorising someone's face. i am grabbing at this feeling and it slips away before it forms into substance.  i need to let go.

awake

and alert.
 i work in a Very Big library.

i don't mention work on here much. it's a conscious decision - not because i don't love my job - i am a rare person who does - but more due to a desire to keep work separate. i am thinking of starting a blog about issues relevant to the library industry.  but i probably won't.  i am not obsessive about remaining nameless online, it's not like i say anything here that's compromising, or will have me arrested. but at the same time, it's not important to be attached to me. it's sort of nice that it's not, that i put it out there, quiet, in the space of the great unread of the great unwashed. not that i mind if people do read. but nor do i care if they don't. it's not why i write.

pushing back the book-buying urges.  quiet now.  i felt myself sliding earlier, somewhere darker and darker as the day ticked passed.  but i am stopping, and digging in my heels, and trying to hold my own.  i can. i know i can.

don't be angry

I have to sneak in and put on your clothes
You will know where I’ve been
But I need the protection
Oh what a strange and miraculous thing
Finally recognise what is driving me crazy

All that I want was here now it’s gone
All that I want was here now it’s gone
Don’t be angry
I don’t disagree
It is clear that I left
My clothes on the highway

And I’d like to know
If you ever told
You said if I could have once
Given your life some meaning

All that I want was here now it's gone
All that I want was here now it's gone
All that I want was here now it's gone

Don’t be angry
I will die lonely
Don’t be angry
I will die lonely
Don’t be angry
I will die lonely
Don’t argue
'Cause you will see
That I will die so very lonely
Don’t be angry
Don’t be angry

the organ

new band.
wonderful new band. repeat listening, falling in love sort of band. 


i just finished The Road by Cormac McCarthy.  the movie was solid and difficult, and so was the book. it was beautiful and gray and now i feel along and like i need to hide under blankets and like the gray ash is falling, falling over me, until i cannot breathe, oh god, peel back, peel back, and stop it now....

and i want to fall.  i want to lose it. i want to let it all go and fly far far away again, off away away away into another magical place where it is all more real and more alive and i can dive away, dive away and let it take me.

disintegration

perhaps one way of putting it is when, suddenly, your heart expands. you are just there, breathing, but it feels like your heart is growing wider and wider and swallowing another body into your flesh.  your blood beats through to the end of your fingers, but your heart beats over them as well, because, well, because it is enormous what you feel, and you are so so alive in them, and alive in yourself.

sometimes it happens slowly, growing over you gently. and you do not know where it is, or where they are, but only that they are alive in you, and you in them, pieces, pieces, but they are not fragments, they are whole.  and it doesn't matter how many people you love like this, there is always space for more, because this feeling is enormous.  it is here, and it is on the other side of the country, and it is on the other side of the earth, or maybe sitting next to you, just there, just there.

and other times, you will just be sitting, breathing tight for some reason, almost gasping for air, and suddenly it shudders over you, and you are there, oh god, you are on the edge and it is cascading across you, under you, inside of you, consuming like a hungry ghost, and god, yes, yes, i want it, i want it now, i want it so heavy and badly, and i do not know how this happened.   pressed against each other, heartbeats chasing each other like greyhounds, who is beating faster? no race, no stopping, no starting, it just balloons out and takes you down, over and over again, it is always the same. it is always new. it is always the same.  it is never like anything else.